The Most Carefully Laid Plans
by SandraDeee
Summary: Ethan has the life that was always expected of him, but he has learned that even the most carefully laid plans have flaws. Haunted by regrets and dreams of a woman he can never have, his life grows more complicated when she makes her return to Harmony.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: In the summer of 2000 when _Passions_ was still in its early stages, I absolutely adored the relationship between Ethan Crane and Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. I discovered the wonderful world of fanfiction and even had my own fanfiction site, and this story was born through my enthusiasm for this show, this couple, and storytelling. This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, and though there are aspects of the story that I am tempted to change in 2010, I won't because the original (flaws and all) holds a special place in my heart.

I previously posted _The Most Carefully Laid Plans _on my site, Once Upon a Time, as well as on Turtle Run and Coffeerooms. It is no longer in any of those places and hasn't been for quite awhile, though I do still get e-mails from people from time to time wondering where they can find a copy. So in celebration of the tenth anniversary of this story, I decided to post it here.

Obviously, I do not own the _Passions _characters found within the story, though the original characters are my own. Nor am I affiliated in any way with _Passions. _No money is being made from this story. Believe me-if I did control _Passions,_ the show would've gone much differently.

* * *

**Prologue**

_She smiled sadly, "I still believe in you." The simple words exemplified so much emotion. He reached out for her. He could almost touch her. Almost._

Ethan Crane jerked awake, but the image lingered: expressive brown eyes that sparkled, eyes he had once called exquisite; soft skin that radiated beauty; small hands he had once held in his own. Had it really been four years since he had seen her? Why, after all this time, did she still haunt his dreams?

During the day, it was relatively easy for him to focus on his life as it existed. As a corporate lawyer, he worked on a never-ending paper trail consisting of Crane Industries' latest merger or acquisition. Since returning to Harmony five years earlier, Ethan had also decided that he wanted to give back to the community that had given so much to the Crane Family. Ethan sat on the town council and often worked closely with Sam Bennett, Harmony's Chief of Police, to find ways to make improvements, which would be beneficial to the town. As always, the Crane Family worked diligently with numerous charities, though Ethan sometimes doubted the family's dedication to the causes.

Ethan was now doing what he had always thought he would do. But at night, the dreams came, and he could not help but wonder about what might have been.

_I still believe in you._ Those words lingered in his mind.

He turned over and looked at the woman who slept peacefully by his side. He had to admit that his wife, Gwen, looked beautiful with her blonde hair gently spread on the pillow. They had been together for as long as he could remember. It was always understood that they would marry, and they had fulfilled what was expected of them. _"Nothing is more important than the family's interests,"_ Julian had always told him, and their marriage was the perfect merger of the Crane and Hotchkiss families and businesses. _But even the most carefully laid plans _. . . .

Those eyes. Ethan closed him own, and he saw them in different incarnations. Sometimes they were happy, bursting with enthusiasm and hope. Sometimes they were playful, as though she knew something he didn't. And sometimes they were sad eyes, filled with disappointment and hurt.

_I still believe in you._

The dreams called again, and he felt himself drifting, eager to answer that call.

* * *

**Chapter One: "Wolf Fodder"**

"Good morning, Mother," Ethan said as he kissed Ivy Crane's cheek.

"Ethan, darling, you look tired," Ivy said, concern creeping into her features. She knew she shouldn't feel this way, but her first-born always had been her favorite. Ethan was so different from his sisters and his brother. He was _her _son.

Ethan poured himself a cup of coffee, but then went to sit next to his mother at the dining room table. "I didn't sleep very well last night. That's all."

"Darling, this is the third night in a row. Maybe you're coming down with something," Ivy said as she touched her son's cheeks and forehead.

Ethan fought the impulse to smile. "I'm fine, Mother. Really."

Though he loved his mother dearly, she was hardly Dr. Mom. With all the years he spent away at boarding school, she had never been the one to nurse him when he had a cold or to bandage a scraped knee. Even when he was home for the holidays, Ivy Crane's various social functions prevented much interaction. At the time, Ethan had been much more comfortable with Pilar Lopez- Fitzgerald, the head housekeeper. Pilar lavished the lonely little boy with attention, and when it was time for her to leave each day, Ethan hated to see her go. He knew she had children of her own, and he wondered what it would be like to belong to a closely-knit family, one which was always together.

"So what do you have planned for today, Mother?"

"I am conducting more interviews," Ivy replied.

"You still haven't found what you're looking for?"

"As the old adage goes, good help is not easy to find. Ever since Theresa left, I feel as though I've been in a limbo. I don't know how I ever managed before her!"

A shadow crossed Ethan's face. Ivy noticed, but misinterpreted the significance. "Ethan, I know she wasn't what we thought she was, but she did do a wonderful job, and she is Pilar's daughter . . . Besides, you know the unfortunate streak of luck I have had with personal secretaries since then. First, there was Michelle. The poor girl had so many allergies that if you looked at her sideways, she would sneeze. I swear, the girl needed her own biosphere! I do hope Arizona is agreeing with her, though. Oh, and then there was Melinda. I am certain, Ethan, that she was cursed with clumsiness. Every party she planned turned into a fiasco!" Ivy sighed. "And let's not forget Amelia. Hhmmm. How could I? She was more interested in Julian's version of 'career advancement' than in being helpful to me." Ivy sneered as she said her husband's name. She shook her head, "Theresa made my life so easy."

"I wish that situation had been handled differently," Ethan commented introspectively.

"We can't go back and undo what's been done. Heaven knows there are plenty of things I wish I could change." Ivy's face clouded, but just as soon as the clouds came, they passed. She patted her son's hand. "Do you know how much I love you? I would do anything to protect you."

"I know you would, and I know you have."

Ivy looked at her son warmly, thinking of the secret they shared.

She stood. "I think I'll go to my room and review these notes before the first prospect arrives."

"Of course. Good luck with that."

As Ivy began to walk to the stairs in the Crane's massive entry hall, she saw her daughter-in- law, Gwen descended the stairs. "Good morning, Ivy," Gwen said cheerfully.

"You sound quite buoyant this morning," Ivy commented with a smile.

"I have every reason to be. I am married to the man I love, the sun is shining, and I just know it is going to be a wonderful day!" Gwen responded.

Ivy raised an eyebrow, but said nothing else, continuing on her way.

Gwen walked into the dining room where Ethan sat, staring at his cup of coffee.

"There you are! I expected to find you next to me when I awoke, but you were gone. But I am glad I managed to catch you before you left for the day." Gwen leaned down and kissed her husband on the lips.

So was Ethan. What he needed was for Gwen to distract him, to take his mind off of Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. "You certainly are a sight for sore eyes," he murmured into her ear.

"I have something more I would like to show you," she teased as she moved away from him. "You're never going to believe what I've just seen in the _Herald_."

"Well, don't keep me in suspense," Ethan insisted.

"Don't worry. I don't plan to. Here it is: Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald is engaged to Chuck Wilson. Remember him? He's her old partner in crime and quite wealthy."

Gwen placed the lifestyles section of _The Harmony Herald _on the table, and Ethan could see it was true. A photo of Theresa and Chuck was printed, along with a short article.

Ethan felt his heart skip a beat. Intellectually, he always knew Theresa would fall in love with someone else someday. But it was still an inevitability for which he wasn't prepared. "I don't believe it."

"Neither did I! I mean, he has to know that Theresa just wants his money," Gwen said harshly.

"Gwen, Theresa is many things, but she is not a gold-digger."

"Please, Ethan! After everything she put us through, you're going to defend her? Theresa just illustrates a perfect point. You can take the girl out of the trash, but you can't take the trash out of the girl."

"Gwen, don't _ever_ talk about her like that."

She touched his frowning face, but he jerked away from her touch. "Oh, Ethan, lighten up. Everyone knows what she is all about. The only good thing I can say about her is she knows how to throw a great wedding. But then again, she was delusional enough to think you would marry her instead of me," she said, but then paused a moment before adding, "Why is it that we always come back to this?"

Ethan said nothing, and Gwen frowned.

"Well, I must be going. I have a busy, busy day ahead." She absently gave him a kiss on the cheek and left the room.

Ethan looked at the newspaper intently. Nuptials were planned in New York in three weeks. Three weeks_. It's time to let go of the dreams,_ he thought. _Easier said than done._

He touched the photo of Theresa, tracing her smiling face. "You deserve all the happiness in the world, Theresa."

He closed his eyes and remembered the words that haunted him. _"I still believe in you._"

And he had fed her to the wolves.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: In the summer of 2000 when _Passions_ was still in its early stages, I absolutely adored the relationship between Ethan Crane and Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. I discovered the wonderful world of fanfiction and even had my own fanfiction site, and this story was born through my enthusiasm for this show, this couple, and storytelling. This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, and though there are aspects of the story that I am tempted to change in 2010, I won't because the original (flaws and all) holds a special place in my heart.

I previously posted _The Most Carefully Laid Plans _on my site, Once Upon a Time, as well as on Turtle Run and Coffeerooms. It is no longer in any of those places and hasn't been for quite awhile, though I do still get e-mails from people from time to time wondering where they can find a copy. So in celebration of the tenth anniversary of this story, I decided to post it here.

Obviously, I do not own the _Passions _characters found within the story, though the original characters are my own. Nor am I affiliated in any way with _Passions. _No money is being made from this story. Believe me-if I did control _Passions,_ the show would've gone much differently.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Two: "The Survivor" **

"Happiness is just around the corner," Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald said as she took a framed photo of Chuck and herself from the mantle of the fireplace. "I can feel it!" Carefully, she folded newspaper around the photo and placed it in a large, cardboard box.

She looked down at her Himalayan cat, Serendipity. She scratched behind the cat's ears and asked, "Am I crazy to go back?" Serendipity merely looked at her owner and yawned. "Oh, the life of a kitty!" Theresa said, shaking her head. "Wanna trade places? I'll sleep and _you_ pack."

Absently, she touched the diamond ring on her left hand. She still couldn't bring herself to take it off, but enough time had passed to where her emotions were no longer raw. Since Chuck had died in the car accident almost a year ago, Theresa found herself thinking more of home. She wasn't sure what would await her once she returned to Harmony, but she was certain that fate had something special in store for her.

To Theresa, fate was a force of nature as powerful as gravity and as vital as the air she breathed. Like gravity, fate had complete control over a person's direction. Fate had been cruel to her once, but she had dared to believe that this time, things would be different.

Yet no matter how much she wished for something, that didn't mean it was going to happen. Her misguided love for Ethan had taught her _that_ harsh lesson. Still, good things could come from bad experiences, and Theresa knew she had always been one thing: a survivor.

The days following Ethan's wedding to Gwen had been terrible. Still, the worst part wasn't that Ethan had married Gwen. No. The worst part had been the look in Ethan's blue eyes. The hurt, disappointment, and disillusionment had almost been more than she could bear.

The weeks passed, and Whitney tried to coax her out of the house, but Theresa wouldn't budge. Whitney had heard that Ethan and Gwen had returned from their honeymoon, and she was certain that Theresa had heard the news, too. Still, sooner or later, Theresa was going to have to face reality.

Finally, Whitney literally dragged her friend out, determined that it was for her own good. Their destination: Making Waves, a new nightspot for teens near the wharf.

It was difficult for Theresa to face people again. Though fate hadn't brought Ethan and her together as she had expected, Theresa was certain that fate hadn't deserted her yet. That realization came in the form of disco, of all things.

_As the two friends entered Making Waves, Whitney started to wish she'd thought of someplace else to take Theresa. It was disco night, and suddenly, Whitney felt quite self-conscious. But then she looked over at her friend._ Something has to be done, _she thought._

_"Come on, Theresa. Let's dance," Whit said pulling her friend onto the dance floor. _

_At first both girls felt silly, but they started getting into the music and the moves. Before long, Theresa was laughing, and Whitney was reminded of the way things used to be. Suddenly, a song came on, and both girls' eyes just widened as they burst into laughter. _

**At first I was afraid I was petrified **

**I kept thinking I could never live without you **

**By my side **

**But then I spent so many nights **

**Just thinking how you've done me wrong **

**I grew strong I learned how to get along**

**And so you're back **

**From outer space **

**I just walked in to find you **

**Here without that look upon your face **

**I should have changed my stupid lock **

**I would have made you leave your key **

**If I had known for just one second **

**You'd be back to bother me**

**Well now go, **

**Walk out the door **

**Just turn around **

**Now, you're not welcome anymore **

**Weren't you the one **

**Who tried to break me with desire? **

**Did you think I'd crumple? **

**Did you think I'd lay down and die? **

_Theresa closed her eyes and began to sing along with Gloria Gaynor between laughter and tears._

**"Oh not I, **

**I will survive **

**Yeah **

**As long as I know how to love, **

**I know I'll be alive I've got all my life to live **

**I've got all my love to give **

**I will survive, **

**I will survive Yeah, yeah"**

_And it was a moment of epiphany, a perfect moment of clarity. And she knew it was time to let go of her foolish fantasies about Ethan. It was time to pursue her other dream._

Ever since she was a little girl, Theresa had dreamed of being a fashion designer. Theresa moved to New York to study fashion design the autumn following her graduation from Harmony High. Those first few months in New York were terribly lonely. Theresa felt completely lost. She had no friends, and money was tight, despite her scholarship. But once again, fate interceded. She ran into Chuck Wilson, who was playing in a tennis tournament. Relieved to see a familiar face after months of being virtually alone, the two went out for coffee.

She and Chuck had first met briefly in Harmony when Whitney valiantly tried to save her from utter mortification at the hands of Gwen Hotchkiss. Suspicious of Theresa, Gwen insisted upon meeting Theresa's mysteriously absent boyfriend. Problem was, Theresa's mystery boyfriend didn't exist!

Fortunately for Theresa, Whitney spotted Chuck that night, and they knew each other from playing tennis at The Harmony County Club. Chuck was more than willing to help his friend out, though he had never met Theresa.

Theresa was absolutely flabbergasted when a young man she had never seen before approached the table and pretended to be her boyfriend. She was certain that fate was truly on her side.

Chuck had been quite taken with Theresa that night. Sure, Theresa thought he was handsome and sweet, but she didn't give him a second thought. Instead, she only had eyes for Ethan.

Though it was almost another two years before they met again, something clicked this time around. Without any hopes of ever having a relationship with Ethan, she allowed herself to enjoy Chuck's company. Chuck was hardly what anyone could call ambitious, but he pursued Theresa doggedly.

Theresa relished his irreverent ways, his sense of humor, and his love of adventure. Chuck had also managed to accomplish the impossible: he won Luis over. Though not initially thrilled that Theresa was involved with "a rich snob," Luis finally had to concede that anyone would be better than "those damn Cranes."

Theresa thought they would always be together. Chuck treated her as though she was the most precious person in his life. He showered her with love and attention, and the two of them laughed constantly. Most of all, Chuck brought the gift of the unexpected back into Theresa's life. She never knew what to predict when he was around, and she found that exhilarating. Even his marriage proposal to her had been out of the ordinary.

_Theresa sat in her apartment looking at sketches of evening gowns. She'd been looking at them so long, her vision was starting to blur. "I need a break!" She walked to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water. One of the first things she learned when she moved to New York was to never, ever drink the tap water. _

_Suddenly, she heard a knock on the door. "Who could that be?" she wondered_.

_She looked out her peephole, but saw no one. Opening the door, she looked from side to side before looking down. A large basket sat at her feet, and in it was a tiny Himalayan kitten with a blue bow tied around its neck._

_"Meow," its little high-pitched voice called out for attention._

_Immediately, Theresa knelt and scooped up the kitten. It nestled its tiny body in the cradle of her neck. "Oh, my goodness! You are the cutest little kitty!" Theresa exclaimed. _

_She looked back at the basket, looking for a note. Instead, she found a white cardboard box. Inside was a framed photo of Chuck and the kitten. He was down on one knee, holding the kitten in his arms. Attached was a note. It read: Will you marry us?_

_"Dios mio!" Theresa exclaimed. She wasn't sure whether to laugh or to cry. _

_"Is that a yes?" asked Chuck as he came around the corner._

_She lavished him with kisses. "Yes! Oh, yes. Yes!"_

_He knelt and took her hand. "I love you, Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald." He slipped the ring onto her finger, and Theresa drew him to her. _

_"I love you, too. I always will."_

Chuck and Theresa were inseparable. At least, they had been until two days before the wedding . . . . until the accident.

Once again, Theresa had felt her world crumble around her feet. All the hopes and dreams she had built her future upon were washed away, just as tide waters wash away sand. Everything she had ever wanted was within her grasp and then suddenly gone. But regardless of whether she wanted it to, the sun rose the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that. Life had to go on. She knew she would survive, and she did.

Theresa took another photo from the mantle, this one a picture of Whitney Russell and her when they had been in high school. She smiled, "I can't wait to see you, Whit." She grabbed another newspaper to wrap the photo in, but something caught her eye.

She stood motionless for a moment, staring at the headline from the paper: **Crane Industries Donates $10 million to the American Cancer Society…**A photo of Ethan was placed next to the article. As she read the article, she discovered that it was Ethan who had made arrangements for the donation following the diagnosis of a close family friend. The article went on to include quotes from Ethan regarding the importance of early detection.

"It was for Mama," Theresa whispered.

She felt chills run up and down her spine when she remembered the day Miguel had called to tell her that Mama was in the hospital. Pilar Lopez-Fitzgerald was fortunate, though, that her cancer had been detected early. Pilar had always been a survivor, and she continued to be.

Yet her brush with death inspired Pilar to return to the old country. With her children grown with lives of their own, Pilar chose to stay in Spain.

"It's just like you, Ethan, to do something so wonderful for someone else," Theresa said as she looked at the newspaper. For a moment she thought about setting it aside to keep, but then thought better of it. Quickly, she wrapped the photo of Whitney and herself in the paper and placed it in the box.

"You were always such a good friend to me." Theresa wished that she had been a better friend to Whitney; that she had kept in touch a little more. "Oh, you were so right, Whit. It was all a dream, and dreams just aren't what they used to be. But you knew that. You tried to protect me, but I wouldn't let you."

She thought back to another time and another and place.

_"Someday, I am going to marry Ethan Crane. He just doesn't know it yet."_

_"You're living in a dream world, Theresa. It isn't going to happen," Whitney protested. She hated to see Theresa place so much faith into something that would never, no, could never, happen. The sooner Theresa realized that, the better off she would be._

_"You say that now, but you'll see. Whit, fate is on my side. Ethan and I are destined to be together," Theresa looked off dreamily into the distance, and Whitney couldn't help but roll her eyes._

_"Theresa, snap out of it! Ethan is going to marry Gwen, not you."_

_"I affect him. I know I do! And soon, he'll admit that he loves me, not Gwen. And when he does admit it, we'll be just like Cinderella and her Prince Charming."_

_"Cinderella is a fairy tale, and fairy tales don't happen in real life. Theresa, I am not saying this to hurt you, but I'm afraid for you. You are counting on something that is never going to happen. Besides, even if Ethan did love you, which he doesn't, he is committed to marrying Gwen Hotchkiss. How do you think Julian and Ivy would react if he told them he wanted to be with the housekeeper's daughter? And Luis? Luis hates all the Cranes. Your brother would send you to a convent and probably throttle Ethan!"_

_"You're wrong, Whitney. And if you'd ever been in love with anything other than tennis, you would know that what Ethan and I feel for each other is real. He is going to realize it someday, and then, we'll be together forever."_

_"You are hopeless, Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald."_

"I was so stupid," Theresa said grimacing. "Whit tried to tell me over and over that I would only get myself into trouble, but I didn't listen. But she was wrong about one thing; Ethan did love me. I know he did. Sometimes love just isn't enough."

She looked back at Serendipity, who was happily dreaming whatever cats dream. "Ugh! What is wrong with me? I don't _even_ know why I am thinking of all these things now. It doesn't even matter!"

Yet whether she wanted to admit it or not, it mattered more than it should.

* * *

Credits: "I Will Survive" words and music by Dino Fekaris and Freddie Perren


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: In the summer of 2000 when _Passions_ was still in its early stages, I absolutely adored the relationship between Ethan Crane and Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. I discovered the wonderful world of fanfiction and even had my own fanfiction site, and this story was born through my enthusiasm for this show, this couple, and storytelling. This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, and though there are aspects of the story that I am tempted to change in 2010, I won't because the original (flaws and all) holds a special place in my heart.

I previously posted _The Most Carefully Laid Plans _on my site, Once Upon a Time, as well as on Turtle Run and Coffeerooms. It is no longer in any of those places and hasn't been for quite awhile, though I do still get e-mails from people from time to time wondering where they can find a copy. So in celebration of the tenth anniversary of this story, I decided to post it here.

Obviously, I do not own the _Passions _characters found within the story, though the original characters are my own. Nor am I affiliated in any way with _Passions. _No money is being made from this story. Believe me-if I did control _Passions,_ the show would've gone much differently.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Three: "Home"**

Sheridan Lopez-Fitzgerald and her sister-in-law, Charity, stood in the kitchen. It wasn't a place where Sheridan was entirely comfortable, but she was trying to amend that. Lifting the pitcher of lemonade, she gingerly poured the liquid into the glasses, careful to not spill a drop. She placed the glasses on a tray and was about to pick the tray up when Charity stopped her.

"Why don't you let me do that?" Charity offered.

Sheridan flashed Charity a smile, "Thank you. That's very sweet of you."

"It's the least I can do. You've already done so much." Though it was Miguel and Charity's house, Sheridan had insisted upon making lemonade. She wanted to have all the practice she could get.

Sheridan and Charity returned to the living room where Luis and Miguel were putting the finishing touches on a 'welcome home' banner for Theresa. Though the brothers got along famously, Sheridan and Charity couldn't help but notice that they were unusually pensive and said little to each other.

Charity placed the tray of drinks on the coffee table, but no one made a move for them.

"How does it look?" Miguel asked.

"Perfect," Charity replied. "Theresa is going to be so surprised when she sees everything the two of you have done to decorate this room."

Luis walked to the couch and sat. He leaned forward with his elbows on his legs, and rubbed his eyes. Sheridan sat next to her husband on the couch and massaged his back. He was so tense. A few moments passed as the couples sat in silence. The only noise came from Miguel and Charity's twin girls who were playing in the next room.

Finally, Luis stood and began to pace. "All of this waiting is driving me crazy!"

"You're just eager to see Theresa. We all are," Miguel replied to his brother.

"She's been gone five years and mostly kept her distance. I just don't know what we're going to find when she does get here."

Sheridan looked at Luis, and her heart ached for him. They both came from large families. But whereas Sheridan had never felt a great deal of closeness to members of her family, with the exception of her nephew, Ethan, Luis knew what it was to belong to a tightly knit family unit. After the disappearance of Luis's father and older brother, Luis had taken it upon himself to support the family. He had sacrificed his dream of going to college and eventually becoming a lawyer so that Theresa, Miguel, and his mother could have a better future.

Though he didn't speak of it much, Sheridan knew it hurt Luis deeply when he discovered that Theresa had lied to him about working for Ivy and her feelings for Ethan. Theresa left for New York soon after these revelations, and Sheridan was fairly certain that the siblings had never completely worked through their differences. That, coupled with Pilar's cancer and her move to the old country, had taken their toll on Luis. A family that had once drawn strength from each other had now gone its separate ways. That's why Theresa's return meant a great deal to Luis, while frightening him at the same time.

Charity spoke up, "Theresa is a special girl. Terrible things have befallen her, but I know that wonderful things are in store for her."

Miguel looked at his wife. In the last few years, her powers of intuition had become stronger and more accurate. Though everyone had once simply humored her premonitions and observations, they had now started to give them credence. "Is that a prediction?"

Charity merely smiled back.

Sheridan stood and took a glass of lemonade. She handed it to Luis. "Here. Drink some, Luis. It will make you feel better."

Luis took a swallow, and his lips puckered from the liquid's sourness. "Sheridan, did you put any sugar in here?"

"Sugar?" Sheridan asked, a blank expression on her face.

Luis laughed and kissed his wife on the cheek. Without even meaning to, she had lifted his spirits.

Sheridan had never been a good cook; she never had to be. Raised in boarding schools, it was never her responsibility. Even as an adult, she never learned. She had lived an extremely privileged life, so cooking was never an issue. Food just magically appeared whenever she was hungry, and for a long time, it never occurred to her that someone had to prepare it. But lately, she found herself wanting to be able to cook more than burnt scrambled eggs.

"You hate it," Sheridan said in a small voice, disappointment etching her features.

"No, I don't. I love it. Just like you." Luis leaned forward and gently kissed her lips.

"Oh, you two are so sweet!" Charity exclaimed. "I'm so glad you're together!"

Luis and Sheridan looked at each other, a shared understanding passing between them as they did. They almost _hadn't_ made it. Alistair and Julian's interference, Hank's lies, Sheridan's fears that she was responsible for Martin Fitzgerald's death, combined with their own stubbornness, almost kept Luis and Sheridan apart. But they _had_ made it, and they felt so unbelievably fortunate.

Luis touched the growing swell of Sheridan's stomach, and he felt an astonishing tenderness as he looked at his wife. In a few months, they would be parents. He felt a lump in his throat every time the thought hit him.

Sheridan touched her husband's face. "Wonderful things have happened for us, and it's only going to get better."

A cloud crossed Luis's face, the lightness of the moment before, forgotten. "I only wish that things had turned out better for Theresa." Luis could not even begin to imagine what Theresa must have endured with the loss of her fiancé. If something ever happened to Sheridan, he knew he would go mad.

"I think Theresa is stronger than anyone gives her credit," Sheridan replied.

"This is it, Serendipity," Theresa said to the cat she held in her arms. "I am finally home."

_Home._ It sounded so strange as she said it, almost like a foreign word. _I haven't felt at home in a really long time. Maybe I'll find what I'm looking for right here in Harmony. _she thought. _But what are they going to think about me? How is Luis going to react?_

She stroked the Himalayan's fur and whispered, "There are so many reasons why I should just turn around and walk away . . . . but I can't. Family is family, and it's time to pay the piper."

Theresa took a deep breath and knocked on the door. It was the point of no return. Though she was terribly apprehensive, she had to confess to a certain amount of excitement. This was the house where she grew up, the house where Miguel and Charity were raising their two daughters.

Luis opened the door, and their eyes met. Theresa saw tears begin to well up in her brother's eyes, and felt hers begin to sting, too. Not since Luis believed he had killed his father on that awful night at the Seascape had Theresa seen tears in her brother's eyes.

"Theresa!" Luis's face broke into a wide grin as he pulled his little sister into a bear hug. Theresa felt tears spill down her cheeks. She hadn't known what to expect, but never in her wildest dreams did she imagine that Luis would welcome her as he did. She felt like the Prodigal Son . . . . or in this case, the Prodigal Sister.

"Luis, I am so glad to see you!"

Luis would have held her in an embrace longer if Serendipity hadn't voiced his complaints in the form of loud meowing. Serendipity had not appreciated being crushed between the two siblings.

Theresa and Luis moved apart, allowing the cat some room. "Silly kitty. Didn't anyone ever tell you that love hurts?" Theresa asked.

Luis wiped Theresa's tears and smiled at her cheesy attempt at humor. Still, he felt concerned about the underlying meaning of her words.

"Come inside!"

Luis held Theresa's hand and led her in. After the door closed behind them, Theresa let Serendipity down.

Miguel immediately embraced his sister. "Theresa, I have missed you so much!"

"I've missed you too, Miguel. I can't believe that my baby brother is a papa! And twin girls, no less!"

"They're wonderful, Theresa. I can't wait for you to see them."

Sheridan greeted Theresa with a hug and kiss on each cheek. Theresa immediately noticed that her sister-in-law was expecting and looked to Sheridan and then to Luis. "You two have been holding out on me!" she laughed.

Luis put an arm around his wife. "We thought it would be a nice surprise."

"It certainly is!" Theresa agreed enthusiastically.

"Theresa, welcome home!" Charity said as she hugged her sister-in-law.

"Thank you. And what's all this?" Theresa asked whirling around, looking at the decorations. "You guys didn't have to go to so much trouble!"

"It wasn't any trouble, Theresa. Believe me," Miguel responded. "Hope! Joy! Aunt Theresa is here!" he called.

"They've been so excited about seeing you," Charity added.

Two brown-haired, brown-eyed little girls came running into the room. They were about three years old and as cute as they could be. "Aunt Theresa!" they cried out in unison.

Theresa knelt, and the girls ran into her arms. It wasn't something she had expected, in all honesty. But this day was turning out to be a day of surprises.

And just as soon as the moment began, it was over. Joy suddenly saw Serendipity. "Kitty! Pretty kitty!"

Before long, the two girls were chasing Serendipity around the room until he ran back to Theresa and sat at her feet.

"Oh, I see! They only love me for my kitty!" she laughed.

"Every good relationship has to start somewhere," Sheridan quipped.

Theresa smiled. She wasn't sure what she would have to face, but she knew one thing. She _was_ home.

"Your old room is ready for you, Theresa. We thought you might like to stay there tonight," Charity said. Several hours had passed, and Theresa had to admit that she was getting tired.

"Thank you. It _would_ be nice to sleep in my old bed."

"Theresa, I'll go up with you and help you get settled," Sheridan offered.

Theresa nodded, and the two walked upstairs. When they made it to Theresa's old room, Theresa drew in a breath. It was just as she remembered it, from the fashion magazines on the nightstand, to the pictures on her wall. Even the little bulletin board . . . . with Ethan's picture on it . . . . was the same.

It was like stepping through time, as though the last five years hadn't happened.

"It feels strange, doesn't it?" Sheridan asked. "When I returned to Harmony from Paris about six years ago, it was all pretty difficult to take in."

Theresa could only nod as she sank onto the bed.

"I know it's getting late, and you must be tired, but I feel as though we really should talk about something," Sheridan said.

"Wh-what do you want to talk about?" Theresa couldn't keep the catch out of her voice. She was fairly certain she knew her sister-in-law's answer before Sheridan even gave it.

Sheridan looked squarely at Theresa and replied, "Ethan."


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: In the summer of 2000 when _Passions_ was still in its early stages, I absolutely adored the relationship between Ethan Crane and Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. I discovered the wonderful world of fanfiction and even had my own fanfiction site, and this story was born through my enthusiasm for this show, this couple, and storytelling. This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, and though there are aspects of the story that I am tempted to change in 2010, I won't because the original (flaws and all) holds a special place in my heart.

I previously posted _The Most Carefully Laid Plans _on my site, Once Upon a Time, as well as on Turtle Run and Coffeerooms. It is no longer in any of those places and hasn't been for quite awhile, though I do still get e-mails from people from time to time wondering where they can find a copy. So in celebration of the tenth anniversary of this story, I decided to post it here.

Obviously, I do not own the _Passions _characters found within the story, though the original characters are my own. Nor am I affiliated in any way with _Passions. _No money is being made from this story. Believe me-if I did control _Passions,_ the show would've gone much differently.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Four: "An Understanding"**

"You w-want to talk about Ethan?" Theresa asked nervously. She felt like a deer caught in the headlights with no place to run.

Sheridan sat down on the bed next to Theresa and patted her hand. "Relax, Theresa. This isn't what you think. I just thought we should clear the air between us, so that there are no misunderstandings. I have questions that need to be answered."

"I understand. Ethan is your nephew, and you want to make sure that I didn't come back to hurt him."

"I won't lie to you, Theresa. I am going to have my eye on you, but I'm not just concerned about Ethan getting hurt. I don't want you to be hurt, either."

"Why? How can you be concerned about me after everything Ethan and Gwen must have told you?"

"You are Luis's sister, and he loves you _so_ much. I would almost liken it to a fatherly love. When you hurt, he hurts. I saw how he was when you left Harmony, and I want to make sure that he never has to go through that again."

Theresa felt a lump in her throat. She hated knowing that she had caused her family pain. She had seen time and time again what her selfishness had done through the disappointment in her mother's eyes. And Luis he had only ever wanted to protect her. Though his methods were extreme, Theresa knew that he loved her dearly. To have hurt him the way she did was a source of great regret and shame to her.

Sheridan continued, "I would like to think you aren't a bad person. I know you were caught in a sticky situation."

"I'll say," Theresa said, wiping tears.

"Listen, I don't know everything that happened, but I know what it is to be caught in a web of secrets. I lived with that for most of my life."

"When you thought you had killed Papa?" Theresa asked quietly.

Sheridan looked down at her perfectly manicured fingernails and nodded.

Theresa stood and walked to the window, looking out into the starry night. "All my life, I heard about Ethan from my mother. She cared so much for him, and she would tell us stories about the little Crane boy who had a heart of gold. Mama felt sorry for him; he was a child who had everything he could ever want but love and attention. Despite all of this, he was good and kind. As he grew into a young man, he showered my mother with kindnesses, not because he wanted something in return, but because he is an honorable person."

Sheridan and Ethan were more like brother and sister than aunt and nephew. Being so close in age, they had always shared a special bond, and Sheridan knew that Theresa's description of Ethan's relationship with Pilar was accurate. "That sounds like Ethan," Sheridan agreed, noticing Theresa's referring to him as an honorable person was in the present tense.

"From the stories Mama told, I felt close to him. I know it was a false sense of closeness. After all, he didn't really even know I existed at that point, other than knowing that Pilar Lopez- Fitzgerald had a daughter named Theresa. Still, I knew that _someday_ we would meet, and I believed that we would find in each other what we had always been missing."

Theresa turned back around to face Sheridan. "When I did finally meet him, I was so infatuated with him, I kept having these ridiculous accidents whenever he would get near me. In a way, it's funny to look back on those moments . . . ."

"Right. You sort of think, 'What are the chances?'" Sheridan interjected.

"Exactly! I mean, I never meant for any of those to happen. It's just that whenever he would come around me, I would get so flustered, I became a walking accident. That should have been a warning sign."

"Then why didn't you heed it?"

"I didn't want to."

"That's very honest."

"Sheridan, I had built all these ideas of who I thought Ethan was, but I discovered something. In my fantasies of who I thought he was, I didn't give him enough credit. He wasn't just an idea; he was, _is_, a person! He showed such kindness to me; he laughed at my stupid jokes; he never took himself too seriously. He was my friend, my protector, and my confidant. We shared so many of the same values, as well as an attraction. How could I not fall in love with him?"

Sheridan's eyes widened. So much of what Theresa was saying reminded her of conversations she had with Ethan. Ethan had been extremely concerned that his friendship with Theresa was beginning to cross a boundary. Sheridan knew that initially, their friendship had been more about work, but had slowly progressed to something else.

Sheridan remembered how difficult it was for Ethan to admit the possibility that he could be interested in someone other than Gwen. He was so fearful of becoming like Julian. The guilt weighed heavily on him, but still, he felt drawn to her.

Ethan had once told Sheridan that with Theresa, he could just be himself, just a guy named Ethan; not the heir apparent to the Crane Empire. He felt a sense of freedom with her he had never felt before. They could be silly with each other, but also confide in one another. He enjoyed watching Theresa have new experiences, such as going to the opera for the first time. And Sheridan knew that Ethan was very attracted to Theresa. _What red-blooded male wouldn't be? _Sheridan thought_._ _Theresa has always been a beautiful girl._

Theresa continued, "I tried to tell him over and over how I felt, but he was so oblivious. When I spoke of my feelings, he thought I was talking about Chuck. When we finally addressed the issue of feelings . . . . our feelings for each other . . . .," her voice trailed off.

"Yes?"

"I . . . . I can't talk about that now," Theresa said firmly. "What everything boils down to is this: I cared about him and looked for any excuse to spend time with him . . . . But he was never mine to care for. I used my belief in fate as a justification for my feelings and actions. Still, we did have this amazing connection. I know he cared for me, too, but he wasn't free, and I just couldn't accept that at the time."

"And what about now? Do you plan to try to see him?" Sheridan asked.

"And do what? I know he doesn't want anything to do with me, and I don't blame him. I let him down."

Sheridan looked at Theresa who spoke so earnestly. She seemed to be a different person than the picture Gwen had painted of her. Gwen described Theresa as a consummate liar and gold- digger.

Could Theresa be trusted? Sheridan wondered. She desperately hoped so. Still, she had to admit that the person Gwen described held little resemblance to the young lady who stood before her now. This Theresa neither tried to hide her faults nor her regrets.

Sheridan even found herself feeling sorry for Theresa. She knew from both Ethan and Gwen that the confrontation with Theresa had been intense, though in different ways for each. Ethan had confided that he felt he had fed her to the wolves that day. So many of his feelings for Theresa went unresolved, Sheridan knew.

Gwen, on the other hand, described the confrontation as a successful fox hunt. The animal was sniffed out, stalked, displayed for all to see, and disposed of. That account had always perplexed Sheridan, and this night, she found herself wanting to know more.

Sheridan looked back at Theresa. She had walked to the bulletin board and detached the picture of Ethan. She handed it to Sheridan. "I don't need this anymore."

Sheridan took it from her sister-in-law. "I believe you mean that," she responded as she stood.

"I am glad that you and Luis found each other. I always knew you would," Theresa said, a smile brightening her features.

"I wasn't always so sure, but even when things were at their worst, I couldn't imagine my life without him."

"Love is a blessing," Theresa said simply.

"It is." Glancing at a clock, Sheridan said, "I'm sorry to keep you up so late. I'll be going. I know you must be very tired."

"I don't mind. Really. I'm glad we had this chance to talk."

"Me too. I have an idea. Why don't you come by our house tomorrow? You've never been, and I would love to be able to spend more time with you and get to know you better. And I know Luis would love it, too."

"Thanks. That sounds wonderful. I'll be there," Theresa responded.

"Good," Sheridan said. "Welcome home, Theresa. I mean that."

Theresa nodded. Sheridan began to walk out the door, but Theresa stopped her. "Sheridan, wait. There's something I never asked you, but I have to know."

"What's that?"

"Is Ethan happy?"

It was such a simple question, but Sheridan had no idea of how she should answer it. She paused a moment and responded, "Ethan has a very full life. He is still a lawyer at Crane Industries. He sits on the town council and several community interest boards . . . ."

"He works with Sam Bennett?" Theresa asked.

"Yes. And he is involved in a number of charitable organizations."

"I read in the paper that Crane Industries donated money to the American Cancer Society. He spearheaded that, didn't he?"

"He did. So as you can see, he has a full, busy life."

"You still didn't answer my question. Is he _happy_?"

Sheridan paused for a moment, realizing that very little escaped Theresa. Finally, she responded in the only way she knew how in this circumstance . . . . evasion.

"Good night, Theresa," Sheridan said. With that, she walked out the door.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: In the summer of 2000 when _Passions_ was still in its early stages, I absolutely adored the relationship between Ethan Crane and Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. I discovered the wonderful world of fanfiction and even had my own fanfiction site, and this story was born through my enthusiasm for this show, this couple, and storytelling. This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, and though there are aspects of the story that I am tempted to change in 2010, I won't because the original (flaws and all) holds a special place in my heart.

I previously posted _The Most Carefully Laid Plans _on my site, Once Upon a Time, as well as on Turtle Run and Coffeerooms. It is no longer in any of those places and hasn't been for quite awhile, though I do still get e-mails from people from time to time wondering where they can find a copy. So in celebration of the tenth anniversary of this story, I decided to post it here.

Obviously, I do not own the _Passions _characters found within the story, though the original characters are my own. Nor am I affiliated in any way with _Passions. _No money is being made from this story. Believe me-if I did control _Passions,_ the show would've gone much differently.

**

* * *

**

Chapter Five: "The Fastest Way to a Man's Heart . . . ."

Theresa stood on the front porch of Luis and Sheridan's Cape Cod style home. It was positively lovely, she decided. It appeared that Sheridan had finally escaped from the shadow of the Crane influence.

Shifting the grocery bags in her arms, she rang the doorbell.

Sheridan answered the door. "Come in, Theresa." Noticing her packages, she asked, "What's all this?"

"Something of a surprise," Theresa responded as she walked in. Sheridan led her through a short hallway into the living room. "Sheridan, your home is so lovely, so cozy."

"Thank you, but now you have my curiosity piqued. What is this surprise?"

"Today is a very special day," Theresa announced as she set the bags down on the floor.

Confused, Sheridan asked, "What do you mean?"

Theresa grinned. "Today is the beginning of the rest of your life as a skilled cook. It's not exactly gourmet, but this is the day you are going to learn to make my world famous chocolate chip cookies."

"World famous, huh?" Sheridan asked.

"Well, at least they're famous in the Lopez-Fitzgerald family. I know for a fact that Luis happens to love them."

"Did I hear someone say my name?" Luis asked as he walked into the living room.

"Now what would give you that idea?" Sheridan responded playfully.

Luis looked at his wife and then to his sister. "Theresa, I am so glad you stopped by." He embraced his sister, and wondered whether he should pinch himself to make sure the moment was real. It still had not sunk in with him that Theresa was there, really there.

"Well, after what you told me last night, how could I not come?" she said to Luis with mock seriousness. Seeing the perplexed look on Sheridan's face, Theresa added, "Luis mentioned last night that you were cooking impaired, so I thought this would be an excellent day to remedy that situation."

"Luis Lopez-Fitzgerald, what other deep, dark secrets of mine have you been giving away?" Sheridan crossed her arms in defiance, but her blue eyes sparkled with amusement.

Luis lifted his hands. "I refuse to answer on the grounds that I might incriminate myself."

"Coward!" Sheridan playfully retorted.

Luis's beeper went off. He looked at the indicator screen. "It's the station. I'm sorry, ladies. Duty calls."

He kissed Sheridan on the lips and Theresa on the forehead as he began to walk toward the door.

"Oh, the life of a detective," Sheridan commented. "Saved by the bell . . . . again."

Luis grinned before leaving.

Once he was gone, Theresa turned to Sheridan. "I am so glad to see him so happy. He gave up so much for the family. I know he deserves this happiness."

"Your brother is a good man." A shadow crossed Sheridan's features. "To think that Julian and his goon were almost able to make me believe that Luis was using me . . . .," her voice trailed off.

Theresa took Sheridan's hand. "But you found out the truth. That's all that matters."

"You're right. My family can't hurt us anymore," Sheridan added. "I'm sorry to get so serious on you all of a sudden. Let me show you around the house. We'll stop in the kitchen first so you can drop those items off."

When the two walked into the kitchen, Theresa immediately noticed how clean it was "There's no clutter!" she exclaimed.

"And that's bad?"

"You'll see, Sheridan. When you learn to make the kitchen your own, you'll discover the ambiance and art . . . . of clutter."

Sheridan looked at Theresa with disbelief. "I'll take your word for it."

Sheridan continued to give Theresa the guided tour. Luis had insisted that they live on his detective's salary, which meant a more modest lifestyle for Sheridan. Still, their home was charming, a real labor of love. Giving up luxuries didn't matter to Sheridan. She had learned long ago that money did not equal happiness.

The only financial concession that Luis agreed to in regards to Sheridan's wealth was for his children. Sheridan insisted that trust funds be set up for any children they may have, as an extra measure of security.

As they walked back to the kitchen, Sheridan grimaced. "So we're returning to the scene of the crime?"

"Don't worry. With me by your side, you can't go wrong."

Sheridan and Theresa stood over the kitchen sink, washing their hands.

"I can't believe I'm going to do this," Sheridan groaned.

Theresa laughed, "It's going to be fun! Besides, I'm going to bring clutter to your kitchen if it kills me!"

"If the lack of clutter doesn't kill you, my cooking will," Sheridan responded.

Theresa dried her hands on a dishtowel. "We'll see about that." She began to take items from her bags and lay them on the counter.

Sheridan began to take her jewelry off, and noticed the diamond ring Theresa wore. "Do you want to take off your ring? It'll keep it from getting dirty."

Theresa touched her ring and shook her head. "I have never taken it off," she said in a small voice.

"Oh."

Theresa tried to perk up as she retrieved the last few items she brought. "Besides, my hands aren't going to get dirty. Yours are."

Sheridan's eyes widened once she saw everything Theresa had brought. Sugar, flour, eggs, milk, vanilla, shortening, chocolate chips, measuring spoons, baking soda, salt . . . . the list went on. "All of this just to make cookies?"

"I know it seems like a lot, but it really isn't. With some of these items we'll just use a tablespoon or two, if even that. Take the flour, for instance," Theresa said holding up the bag of flour. "This is all-purpose flour. It tastes better than self-rising flour in recipes like this. But unlike self-rising flour which already has salt and baking soda added, you must add a small amount of those ingredients to the all-purpose flour, or you'll have flat cookies, as the case may be."

"I see," Sheridan replied.

"Good. Now I brought my recipe for the cookies. What I want you to do is to read the directions and follow them precisely. I'll be watching, and I'll help you along if you need it."

Thirty-five minutes later, Sheridan pulled the cookie sheet out of the oven.

"They look and smell heavenly!" she exclaimed gleefully.

"They certainly do. We'll let them cool for a couple of minutes before trying to remove them."

About five minutes later, the two were enjoying milk and cookies. "I can't believe I did it!"

"I knew you could. We've had a great start today. If you can follow directions to make cookies, you can follow other simple directions . . . . anything from macaroni and cheese to spaghetti and meat balls."

"Will you come by another day and help me?" Sheridan asked as she placed the leftover cookies on a large plate and covered them.

"Absolutely!" Theresa promised. Noticing the time on the stove's clock, she added, "I've had such a great time today, Sheridan, but I am going to have to take off soon. I'm supposed to meet Whitney."

"Thanks for everything, Theresa."

Sheridan was polishing off another cookie when she heard the doorbell ring. Opening the door, she asked, "Did you forget something?" thinking it was Theresa.

In front of her stood her nephew, Ethan, his arms full of packages and gift bags. "I don't think so," he replied with a grin.

"Ethan! What is all of this?"

"Just the Baby Express. May I come in?"

"Of course! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude."

Ethan brought the packages inside and placed them on a chair. "Is Luis home?"

"No, he's at the station," Sheridan responded.

Ethan and Luis had never gotten along well. Luis despised anyone with the Crane name, with the exception of Sheridan. He thought them to be arrogant people who tried to play God with others' lives. Luis also believed that the Crane family was responsible for the disappearance of his father and the later emergence of an imposter claiming to be Martin Fitzgerald, though he had never been able to prove it.

When Theresa left Harmony five years ago, matters became progressively worse. Luis had not appreciated the fact that Ethan had helped Theresa keep her job a secret. When Luis discovered that Theresa was working for the Cranes, he was furious. Yet what incensed Luis even more was what he perceived to be the way that Ethan had toyed with his sister's heart and broken it in the process. Luis wasn't foolish enough to believe Theresa to be completely innocent in everything that happened to her, but he still felt that Ethan was older and should have known better.

Ethan, on the other hand, felt that Luis was a bully who used his position at the Harmony Police Department to try to cause problems for the Crane family. Until he met Luis, Ethan had never experienced such blatant enmity. And simply because of his last name! For a young man who, despite his Crane upbringing, was what anybody would consider a decent person, it was a hard pill to swallow.

Ethan also felt that Luis's bullying wasn't limited to the Crane family. Ethan knew from both Pilar and Theresa that Luis almost always got his way in matters concerning the Lopez- Fitzgerald family. Ethan had seen Theresa's fear of Luis firsthand. Ethan was convinced that it was wrong of Luis to deny his sister the opportunities that working for his mother would provide, simply because Luis didn't like the Cranes. So Ethan had kept Theresa's secret. He didn't want Theresa to be sent to convent school against her will.

This rift between Ethan and Luis was a source of great concern for Sheridan. It disturbed her that the two most important people in her life couldn't seem to find common ground. She never gave up hope, though.

"Ethan, what is all of this?" Sheridan asked looking at the packages.

"I just saw a few things that I knew you couldn't live without, so I had to bring them." He had brought everything from baby clothes, to diapers, to toys and stuffed animals.

Sheridan hugged her nephew, laughing when she found her stomach was starting to get in the way. Her blue eyes met his. "Ethan, this is too much! You really shouldn't have gone to all of this trouble."

"Nonsense! It's not everyday that a man gets to buy toys and other baby paraphernalia for his favorite aunt."

"Hah!" Sheridan snorted. "I'm your _only _aunt."

"That's just a minor technicality."

"Spoken like a lawyer."

Ethan picked up a large pink, plush, furry pig and held it up in front of him. "Come on, Sheridan. Who could say no to a face like this?"

Sheridan laughed and kissed him on the cheek. "You are the most wonderful nephew and friend." She sat on the couch and motioned for him to do the same. "There's something I want to talk to you about. What you've done today just makes me think about it more."

"What's that, Sheridan?" Ethan asked as he sat next to her.

"I don't mean to pry, but Ethan, you would be an extraordinary father. Have you and Gwen given any thought to having children of your own?"

If anyone other than Sheridan had asked him such a personal question, he would have unequivocally told them that it was none of their business. But it was different with Sheridan. He trusted her unconditionally. Still, Ethan paused and weighed his words carefully. "I think Gwen would like very much to have children. I'm just not sure that I am ready."

He stood and began to pace. "Raising children is such an enormous commitment. It's the strongest commitment that two people can share."

"And you don't want to share that commitment with Gwen?"

"I . . . . I don't know. One thing I've promised myself is that my children are not going to be raised by nannies. I don't want to be a stranger to my children."

"The way Ivy and Julian were with you?"

"Don't get me wrong. I love my mother very much, but I do wish my upbringing had been a little different."

"What about Julian?"

"When I was a child, I wanted so much for him to notice me. Now that I'm grown, I just can't seem to find any common ground with him. I say up, he says down. I say left, he says right."

"Hhhmm. I know what you mean. Sometimes, I could almost imagine that the two of you aren't even related," Sheridan observed. "Of course, I am amazed that I am related to my father and brother, too."

Ethan nodded. He was eager to change the subject. "I noticed something when I came in."

"What's that?"

"The most tantalizing aroma," Ethan responded.

Sheridan's face lit up. "Oh! You must mean the cookies I made!"

Ethan chuckled. "_You _made cookies?"

"I'll have you know that I am now an expert cookie maker. Come see for yourself."

The two went into the kitchen and took cookies from the plate.

"This looks great," Ethan said. He took a bite. "It tastes great, too."

"I'm glad you like it. I hear that these are Luis's favorite."

"Really? Who told you that?" Ethan asked.

Sheridan bit her lip. Should she tell Ethan that Theresa was the one who had helped her make the cookies? That it was Theresa who told Sheridan the cookies were Luis's favorite? _No, now is not the time_, she thought. She wanted to talk to Theresa again before saying anything to Ethan about her.

"A little bird," Sheridan coyly replied. "I can't wait for Luis to get home and try one of these cookies."

She looked at her nephew, but he seemed like he hadn't heard her. He looked lost in thought.

_Where have I had cookies like these before?_ Ethan asked himself. The taste reminded him of something, someone. But what? Who?

And then he remembered. After all, she was never too far from his thoughts. These cookies tasted like _hers._

"Theresa," he whispered.

* * *

Here is the recipe for Theresa's World Famous Chocolate Chip Cookies. Actually, it's the recipe on the inside of Crisco butter flavored shortening sticks.

I never cared much for home-made chocolate chip cookies until I tried this recipe. These are to die for! If you decide to make them, I would love to know how they turn out and what you think.

BTW- I am not employed by Crisco. I just thought I should mention that. :-)

Ultimate Chocolate Chip Cookies

Ingredients:

3/4 stick Crisco butter flavored shortening (or 3/4 cup from a canister)

1-1/4 cup firm pressed brown sugar

2 tbsp. milk

1 tbsp. vanilla

1 egg

1-3/4 cup all purpose flour

1 tsp. salt

3/4 tsp. baking soda

1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips

(optional: pecans, almonds, walnuts, etc.)

Directions:

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

1. Mix Crisco and brown sugar until creamy. I've found that I get better results when I use a hand- held mixer.

2. Then, mix in the egg.

3. Add milk and vanilla to the Crisco/brown sugar/egg mixture and stir.

4. In a **separate bowl**, mix flour, salt, and baking soda. Make sure that these are stirred well. Otherwise, your dough won't rise.

5. Pour the flour mixture into the first bowl. Mix well.

6. Add chocolate chips. It's probably easier to mix these in by hand.

7. Spoon cookie dough onto a cookie sheet. Bake for approximately 10 minutes, depending on how brown you want your cookies to be. (I like mine to be doughy.)

8. Enjoy!


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: In the summer of 2000 when _Passions_ was still in its early stages, I absolutely adored the relationship between Ethan Crane and Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. I discovered the wonderful world of fanfiction and even had my own fanfiction site, and this story was born through my enthusiasm for this show, this couple, and storytelling. This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, and though there are aspects of the story that I am tempted to change in 2010, I won't because the original (flaws and all) holds a special place in my heart.

I previously posted _The Most Carefully Laid Plans _on my site, Once Upon a Time, as well as on Turtle Run and Coffeerooms. It is no longer in any of those places and hasn't been for quite awhile, though I do still get e-mails from people from time to time wondering where they can find a copy. So in celebration of the tenth anniversary of this story, I decided to post it here.

Obviously, I do not own the _Passions _characters found within the story, though the original characters are my own. Nor am I affiliated in any way with _Passions. _No money is being made from this story. Believe me-if I did control _Passions,_ the show would've gone much differently.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Six: "In the Land of Plenty"**

"What did you say, Ethan?" Sheridan asked.

"Nothing," he quickly said. If he repeated himself, he knew Sheridan would ask questions of him that he wasn't ready to answer. "It's just funny how a smell or a taste can remind a person of something else."

Or _someone_ else.

And he remembered.

_"Thanks for the ride home, Ethan," Theresa said as Ethan walked her to the door of her house. _

_"No problem. I should be the one thanking you for all of your help with planning the wedding. Gwen and I couldn't do it without you," he replied. _

_Theresa smiled weakly at him, and Ethan thought he saw something in the way she looked at him . . . . something that he couldn't decipher. Was it a touch of sadness?_

_"It's still early. Would you like to come in? I was planning on making my world famous chocolate chip cookies."_

_He could think of so many reasons why he should turn around and go home, but his feet wouldn't cooperate. She had become one of his best friends, and he always looked forward to Theresa's company perhaps too much._

_It was so easy to spend time with her, but she still kept him on his toes. Her laughter was infectious; he could never be sullen for long when in her presence. Her zest for life and her spunk intrigued him. Her tender heart made him want to protect her. And her beauty captivated him. _

Soon I will be a married man, _he reminded himself._ Gwen is the woman I love, and I am going to spend the rest of my life with her._ He and Gwen had been together for almost as long as he could remember. They always knew they would marry someday. So why did he feel so drawn to Theresa? _

_Why didn't he just turn around and walk away? _

_He looked down into her expressive brown eyes, and he saw so much life. He realized that he didn't want to leave. Besides, what could it hurt? Theresa only thought of him as a friend._

_"World famous? They sound like some serious cookies."_

_Theresa laughed. "You have no idea! Come on. It will be fun. Besides, you can help."_

_Ethan allowed her to lead him inside the house. He always enjoyed being in the Lopez- Fitzgerald home. A _real_ family lived there, laughed there. In many ways, it was a welcome change from the forbidding_ _exterior of the Crane Mansion and its cold, formal interior. Ethan never thought of the Crane family as living together. No, it was merely co-existing. What would it be like to know the type of closeness the Lopez-Fitzgerald family shared? Ethan couldn't help but wonder._

_Following Theresa into the kitchen, Ethan was struck by a sudden thought. "What about Luis?"_

_"He won't be here tonight," Theresa replied._

"Are you sure? I mean, I would hate for you to get in trouble because of me."

_"I am positive. Luis is guarding Sheridan, and I doubt very seriously that he would risk bringing Sheridan here. I doubt he'll even be here until the case goes to trial or else Pierre and Roger are captured. It's much safer for her on your family's estate," Theresa said as she began taking ingredients from the cupboards. "We are in the land of plenty when it comes to time."_

_"'In the land of plenty,'" Ethan repeated. "I like that. So what can I do to help?"_

_"I need the eggs and milk from the frig. Oh, and if you could mix the flour, baking soda, and salt together in a bowl, that would be wonderful. Here are the proportions," Theresa said taking a recipe card from its holder. _

_Ethan walked to the refrigerator and removed the eggs and milk. "I've got to admit, I've never done this before."_

_"There's a first time for everything," Theresa responded. "I was the first person you ever sang a duet with. And now I can say that I was your first . . . . . cookie partner." _

_Theresa walked to the sink to wash her hands. Ethan did the same. As they reached for the soap dispenser, their hands touched. Ethan felt electricity surge from the simple touch and wondered if Theresa did, too. _

_She smiled shakily. "Sorry." She busily went back to work at mixing the shortening, sugar, and some of the other ingredients. Ethan went to work on his part._

_A few moments later, Theresa looked up at Ethan and giggled._

_"What?" he asked looking around him._

_"You have flour on your face."_

_"Oh. I do?" He lifted his hands up to rub the flour from his face, but in the process only got more flour on himself._

_"That didn't work," she told him. "Let me."_

_Theresa closed the gap between them, and reached up to touch his face. Gently, slowly, she wiped the flour away. Ethan looked at Theresa, struck by both her beauty and spirit. Her proximity was intoxicating to him. _

_"I can't get over it," he said. "I know I've said this before, but your eyes are beautiful. They're more than beautiful. They're exquisite, the most expressive I've ever seen." He traced the outline of her cheeks with his fingers._

_They were so focused on each other, they didn't hear the approaching footsteps. _

_"I thought I heard voices in here," Pilar said as she entered the kitchen. "Ethan, what a surprise."_

_Ethan and Theresa distanced themselves._

_"Hello, Pilar. Your daughter and I were about to embark on an adventure together."_

_Concern crept onto Pilar's face. "What do you mean? What kind of adventure?"_

_"Baking cookies," Ethan announced proudly, pointing to toward the ingredients he and Theresa had pulled out, as well as the mixtures._

_"I see." Pilar shot a look at Theresa that Ethan was not sure how to interpret. "Teresita, remember what we talked about." Her tone was one of warning._

_"Yes, Mama," Theresa replied meekly._

_"I'm going to bed. Good night."_

_"Goodnight, Pilar."_

_"Sweet dreams, Mama."_

_After Pilar left Ethan turned to Theresa, who was briskly mixing the dough. "Is your mother okay? I just had the strangest feeling that she was bothered by something."_

_Theresa shrugged, "She's probably just tired."_

_"Well, she is the hardest working person I know."_

_"That's Mama," Theresa agreed._

_"I remember that when I was a little boy, she was very kind to me when I was home for holidays. I used to wonder what it would be like to be part of her family."_

_Ethan could see the surprise on Theresa's face. "Really?"_

_"Why are you so shocked? I know a lot of people who would kill to have what you have. One thing that I have promised myself is that when Gwen and I start having children, they are not going to be shipped off to some boarding school. They are going to live with us, and we are going to shower them with love. I don't ever want them to know the loneliness that Sheridan and I went through." _

_His vehemence stunned Theresa. "Ethan, I never realized."_

_Ethan looked back at Theresa and could see her eyes were glistening with tears. She was about to cry . . . . for_ him.

_"I'm sorry, Theresa. I didn't mean to upset you. All of that unpleasantness is long over, and I'm fine," he assured her. She looked down, but he lifted her chin. "Really."_

_She nodded, but he knew she found his assurances to be dubious, at best. And it touched his heart. He had to do something to keep her from worrying about him._

_"Look, I have an idea. While we're waiting for the cookies to bake, let's play a game."_

_Her eyes sparkled. "What kind of game?"_

_"Well, we each get to ask the other person any three questions we want, and the other person must answer."_

_"Any three?"_

_"Any three," he affirmed._

_She spooned the cookie dough onto the baking sheets. "You do realize, of course, that this game has the potential to be quite dangerous. I am merciless when it comes to games."_

_"Well, then. I'll let you go first so I can go ahead and get my punishment over with."_

_"Oh, I see the way you are. You're just biding time so you can come up with the perfect questions."_

_"I see you know my strategy," he said opening the oven door for her. She put the baking sheet into the oven._

_The two sat at the kitchen table. "Hhhmm. Three questions. Ok. Here goes. Tell me about your first kiss," Theresa instructed._

_"That's a statement, not a question."_

_"Ok, Alex Trebek. Nothing gets by you, does it? Let me rephrase. Who was the first girl you kissed_?"

_His answer was immediate. "Gwen. Next."_

_"No! You can't leave it like that! You have to elaborate!" Theresa insisted._

_Ethan smiled. "Fine. Just for you, I'll elaborate. Let's see. . . . . We must have been about fourteen or fifteen. I don't remember exactly, but I think it was at a mixer for our schools. I don't remember much about the actual kiss, except that it was awkward. We might've bumped noses, I think."_

_Theresa laughed, "You better get your story straight just in case Gwen ever asks you to reminisce with her about it!"_

_"I'll keep that in mind."_

_"Oh, I've got a good one! What was your most embarrassing moment?"_

_Ethan groaned and looked up at the ceiling. "I just _knew_ you would ask that!"_

_"Come on, Mr. Man. Spill it."_

_"Promise not to_ l_augh?" he asked._

_Theresa lifted her right hand. "Scout's honor."_

_"I was a freshman in college. It was my second semester, and I was taking a public speaking class. The first day I had to give a speech, I felt pretty confident. So I stood before the classroom, thinking I was doing a wonderful job discussing all the reasons why we have a responsibility to vote in public elections, but I kept getting the strangest looks from my classmates. When my speech was finished, my professor congratulated me on a job well done . . . . and then told me that I might want to zip up my pants."_

_Theresa slapped her hand over her mouth, trying to keep from laughing. It didn't work. "I can't believe he didn't tell you before you made your speech!" she exclaimed between giggles. _

_"It's funny now, but at the time . . . ." Ethan shuddered._

_She shook her head. "Oh my."_

_"Moving right along . . . .," Ethan said, eager to leave that memory behind._

_"All right. Imagine you could change one thing. What would it be? And don't tell me you would wish for world peace or an end to all diseases. I want to hear something purely selfish."_

_Ethan thought for a moment before answering. "I would change the way people perceive the Crane name. I never realized the amount of resentment people can harbor based on a person's last name."_

_"With a last name like Lopez-Fitzgerald, believe me when I say I understand," Theresa interjected._

_"But you and I are so much more than our last names. It doesn't matter who a person's family is or what their social status is. It's who they are on the inside that matters."_

_Ethan's eyes met Theresa's and he saw resolve in her features. "Absolutely," she agreed._

_He rubbed his hands together in an exaggerated motion. "Now it's my turn!"_

_Theresa groaned._

_"Question number one. Who was your first crush?"_

_She perked up. "That's easy. Lee Majors."_

_"The actor?"_

_"Yes! When I was little, I used to watch him on reruns of 'The Six Million Dollar Man.'"_

_Ethan shook his head in disbelief. "Really? I did, too! In fact, I used to want to be Steve Austin. I would jump and make that bionics sound effect."_

_"Well I was going to be the Bionic Woman and marry him. He was so handsome in those leisure suits," she said with mock seriousness. _

_Ethan laughed. "You are too much!"_

_"So I've been told."_

_"Ok. Now for question two. What was your most embarrassing moment?"_

_"Let's see. That's a toss up. There was the time I spilled paint on you, the time I spilled milkshakes and barbecue sauce on you . . . . oh, and let's not forget the fish guts."_

_"Let's do." _

_"It wasn't exactly one of my crowning moments, was it?"_

_"Uh, no. You get to make it up to me, though, with this last question. It's actually a two- parter. First part: Which singer or musical group do you secretly enjoy, but are too embarrassed to openly admit you like them?"_

_Theresa thought for a minute. "That's a toss up. The truth of the matter is that I am a closet Carpenters fan and Neil Diamond fan."_

_Ethan grinned. "This should be good. The second part of this is that you have to sing a verse from one of their songs."_

_Theresa playfully poked him in the side. "Ethan Crane, you are a cruel, cruel man!"_

_"Come on, Theresa. I know you have a beautiful voice. We've sung together. Remember?"_

_"How could I forget?" she replied. _

_She closed her eyes for a moment, seeming to be lost in concentration. When she opened them again, she began to sing:_

"Long ago and oh so far away

I fell in love with you

before the second show.

Your guitar, it sounds so

sweet and clear.

But you're not really here.

It's just the radio.

Don't you remember

you told me you loved me baby?

You said you'd be coming back

this way again baby.

Baby, baby, baby, baby,

oh baby, I love you.

I really do."

_Ethan's breath was taken away by the raw emotion with which she sang. "Theresa, that was beautiful."_

_Theresa blushed. "I've practiced in the shower."_

_"It's obviously paid off."_

_"I, I think the cookies are almost ready."_

_"I think you must be right. I'm starting to smell them."_

_Theresa walked to the oven and peeked in. "Yep. That should be it."_

_After letting the cookies cool for a couple of minutes, the duo dug in. _

_"Theresa, these are the best cookies I have ever eaten. You did a wonderful job."_

"_No, Ethan. _We _did a wonderful job. You are, after all, my cookie partner."_

"Ethan, what were you thinking about? You seemed a million miles away!" Sheridan observed.

Ethan looked at his aunt. "Not quite that far," he replied cryptically. "Listen, I hate to eat and run, but I still have some errands I need to take care of."

"Of course," Sheridan nodded. She walked him to the front door, but wasn't quite ready to let him leave. The haunted look on his face had her worried. "Ethan, are you sure you're all right? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

"I think that maybe I have."

* * *

**Song Credit:**

"Superstar" words and music by L. Russell and B. Bramlett


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: In the summer of 2000 when _Passions_ was still in its early stages, I absolutely adored the relationship between Ethan Crane and Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. I discovered the wonderful world of fanfiction and even had my own fanfiction site, and this story was born through my enthusiasm for this show, this couple, and storytelling. This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, and though there are aspects of the story that I am tempted to change in 2010, I won't because the original (flaws and all) holds a special place in my heart.

I previously posted _The Most Carefully Laid Plans _on my site, Once Upon a Time, as well as on Turtle Run and Coffeerooms. It is no longer in any of those places and hasn't been for quite awhile, though I do still get e-mails from people from time to time wondering where they can find a copy. So in celebration of the tenth anniversary of this story, I decided to post it here.

Obviously, I do not own the _Passions _characters found within the story, though the original characters are my own. Nor am I affiliated in any way with _Passions. _No money is being made from this story. Believe me-if I did control _Passions,_ the show would've gone much differently.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Seven: "A Glimpse"**

The water washed the sand between her toes. The cool waves breaking ashore were a welcome contrast to the heat of the sun. Theresa had always loved the ocean, but today she reveled in it. Dipping her hand into the waves, she marveled at how the ocean was soft, penetrable. Yet who could withstand its storms?

She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds around her; the waves crashing onto the beach, the sea gulls calling to each other anxiously, and the sound of children playing around her. The sunlight beat down on her skin, and she felt warmed by it. Nothing could touch her, harm her. She felt a perfect peace she hadn't felt in a long time.

She had so many plans for the future. Would she be a success? Or would the Cranes try to drive her out? Her peace was shattered at the thought. Nervously, she bit her lip and opened her eyes.

Whit would be there soon. There was no time for negative thoughts.

"Theresa?"

Theresa turned around, excitement showing on her face. "Whitney!" she squealed.

The two old friends embraced amidst squeals of delight.

"Let me look at you," Whitney instructed. She examined her old friend from head to toe. In appearance, Theresa had changed little since last time Whitney had seen her. She was still as stunning as ever with her long, thick dark hair and slender build. And, as ever, she looked completely fashionable in her sun-dress. "You are positively looking gorgeous!"

Theresa demured, "There's not much to look at, Whitney. But you are simply breathtaking." And it was true. Whitney Russell had always been a beautiful girl, but at times had an icy quality that detracted from her beauty. But not anymore. Whit looked positively radiant.

Whitney laughed. "We're so girly, going on about each other's looks!"

"As I recall, you were never into all of that. It was only tennis for you!"

"Times change," Whitney responded.

"Let's walk, and you can tell me about it," Theresa suggested.

Arm in arm, the two friends strolled down the beach. "For starters, I'm thinking about leaving the tennis circuit. Chad and I will be getting married soon, and I want to build up my physical therapy practice. I just don't think that I can handle it all. I don't think I _want_ to handle it all, either."

Theresa wasn't surprised by Whitney's admission. After the last time she and Whitney had spoken, she had a feeling that this would be coming soon. "Have you talked to your father about it yet?"

Whitney grimaced. "Not in so many words. It was always his dream that his daughter be a world champion tennis player, though now he might have his hands full with another prospect." she said cryptically.

"What do you mean?"

"You know that my dad remarried about a year and a half ago. He and Cynthia are expecting a baby at the beginning of next year."

"Wow. How does that make you feel?" Theresa asked.

"Strange. Up until he remarried, I'd always hoped that he and my mom would get back together, you know?"

Theresa nodded. "But there are good things happening with you, too. I happen to know that for a fact," she said taking Whitney's left hand to look at the diamond ring.

Whitney smiled. "You knew all along, didn't you?"

"And _you_ wouldn't listen for the longest time!" Theresa exclaimed. She then did her best Whitney impersonation. "'Theresa, you're wrong. There could never be anything between Chad Harris and me.' Just look at who is eating crow now!"

"Go ahead and gloat while you can. It almost didn't happen."

"I know. I know. Life is full of almosts, though."

"Not like ours. When my mom started to think that Chad could be her son, that put a definite halt to things." Whitney shivered at the thought. What a horrible time in their lives that had been. Her parents' marriage fell apart once Eve's affair with Julian Crane was exposed. And then the possibility that the man she loved was her brother? It was almost too much. Fortunately, DNA tests proved that Eve and Chad were not related. Still, that had left Chad with more questions.

"Well, I always knew it was fate that you and Chad would be together."

"Yeah. You did, didn't you?" Whitney agreed. "Well, Theresa, I don't know if I believe in fate, but there is something that I always believed would happen."

"What's that?"

Whitney stopped and looked at Theresa. "That you would be my maiden of honor at my wedding."

"Whit, I don't know what to say!"

"I do. Say yes!"

"Yes! I would love to!" Theresa replied gleefully. "Oh, I am so happy for you and Chad! I'm so happy that you found each other. I'm so happy that his club is becoming a success. And I'm so glad happy I get to share in your joy."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Theresa."

Whitney felt as though a great load had been lifted off her shoulders. She hadn't been entirely certain how Theresa would react to her request. It hadn't been very long ago that Theresa was to be the bride and Whitney the maiden of honor. Whitney knew that when Chuck died in the car accident, it had nearly destroyed Theresa. It was a great relief that her friend stood before her now, resilient and seemingly at peace with her past.

The only hint of something amiss was the diamond ring that Theresa still wore. _But who's to say how long the grieving process lasts?_ Whitney reminded herself. _It's different for each person._

"I've missed you, you know," Whitney said.

"I know. And I've missed you, too. Six months is too long to go without seeing each other. I guess you can imagine how my family felt."

"What made you finally decide to come back to Harmony?"

"It was time. I've been gone so long, Whit, and I missed my friends and family. There was nothing worthwhile to keep me in New York."

Whitney was puzzled. "But what about your designer label?"

Theresa smiled. "You know me. I always have an idea up my sleeve. My label will go on."

"How Theresa?"

"I'm going to open up a store, here in Harmony. I already have a long clientele list, which includes some of the major department stores like Macy's and Harrod's, as well as a few socialites and starlets, so I won't be hurting for business."

"A store. Here in Harmony. I can't believe it! You always said you would do it, and now you are!"

"Yes, it's another dream that I am determined will become a reality. I just hope that no one tries to stop me."

"Do you mean the Cranes?" Whitney asked.

Theresa nodded. "I can't help but worry. My association with the Cranes didn't end well. I'm just not sure how they'll react."

Whitney thought for a moment. "Chad and Ethan have become pretty tight. I've gotten to know Ethan better, Theresa, and even after everything that happened, I just don't think he would do anything to ruin your business."

"To be honest with you, it's not Ethan I'm worried about it's Gwen. And Ivy, too. But mostly Gwen. I get the strangest feeling about her, Whit."

"Now you're starting to sound like Charity."

"I can't help it! It's just that every time I start to feel good about something, terrible things happen. First with Ethan. Then with Chuck. I just don't want anything bad to happen to my store."

Whitney took Theresa's hand. "Listen to me, Theresa. Don't look for trouble when there is none there. Nothing bad is going to happen! You are going to be a smashing success! People are going to be lined up around the street block to get into your store. Besides, what happened between you and Ethan took place five years ago. Don't you think the Cranes have better things to do than to try to exact revenge on you?"

Theresa looked at her friend, her eyes stormy. "Whitney, I wouldn't put anything past the Cranes anymore."

"They aren't all bad. There is Ethan, and he's a decent guy."

"Yes, he is," Theresa whispered. Her return to Harmony was bringing an onslaught of old memories... memories that she would rather forget.

Theresa's change in tone wasn't lost on her friend. "Have you seen him yet?" Whitney asked.

"Nope, and I don't plan to."

Whitney crossed her arms. "Harmony is not a large town, Theresa. You _are_ eventually going to run into him."

Theresa forced a laugh. "I thought you would be pleased, Whitney. I'm not pining away for him anymore."

"I am glad, Theresa. I just want you to understand that eventually you are going to see Ethan, and you need to be prepared for the emotional baggage that is going to come along with that."

"I can't think about right that right now. If I do, I'll go crazy. I'll think about that tomorrow," Theresa replied in her best Southern impersonation.

"Ok, Scarlet. But don't say I didn't warn you."

"I will consider myself warned. So tell me more about this wedding."

_Could it be?_ No, it was impossible. Last he'd heard, she was still in New York. His eyes _had_ to be playing tricks on him. Yes, when standing on the pier, it was difficult to be certain of anyone off in the distance.

Still, the thought nagged him. He could almost _swear_ he'd seen her. Nothing definitive; just a glimpse.

But that glimpse was enough to make him hope. . . . and curse himself for having hoped.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: In the summer of 2000 when _Passions_ was still in its early stages, I absolutely adored the relationship between Ethan Crane and Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. I discovered the wonderful world of fanfiction and even had my own fanfiction site, and this story was born through my enthusiasm for this show, this couple, and storytelling. This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, and though there are aspects of the story that I am tempted to change in 2010, I won't because the original (flaws and all) holds a special place in my heart.

I previously posted _The Most Carefully Laid Plans _on my site, Once Upon a Time, as well as on Turtle Run and Coffeerooms. It is no longer in any of those places and hasn't been for quite awhile, though I do still get e-mails from people from time to time wondering where they can find a copy. So in celebration of the tenth anniversary of this story, I decided to post it here.

Obviously, I do not own the _Passions _characters found within the story, though the original characters are my own. Nor am I affiliated in any way with _Passions. _No money is being made from this story. Believe me-if I did control _Passions,_ the show would've gone much differently.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Eight: "To Forget"**

Gwen Hotchkiss Crane sat at her vanity, brushing her sleek, blonde hair. She was determined to look her best. Ethan was taking her to a party at Mr. and Mrs. Atkinson's estate, and Gwen could barely contain her excitement. It had been several weeks since they had been out for an evening together, and Gwen looked forward to spending time with Ethan. Her husband was a busy man with his duties at the office, as well as the with his community and charitable obligations. And with her own duties at her father's company, time together had been scarce.

Gwen couldn't wait to see the looks on the old biddies' faces when she and Ethan walked in together. It was going to be nice to make an appearance to help dispel the rumors she knew were circulating. Her mother had always taught her the importance of staking out her territory and reclaiming it, if necessary. She was determined to let everyone know that not only was Ethan hers, he had never** stopped** being hers. Not even when Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald was playing her games so long ago, Gwen added to herself.

She stood and smoothed her dress. It hugged her slender body, obviously custom-made for her.

Looking in her jewelry box, she found a diamond necklace Ethan bought for her on their first wedding anniversary. She wished he were there to clasp it around her neck. She loved his touch, the feel of his breath.

Where was he anyway? She glanced at the clock on the mantle. It was starting to get late: seven o'clock. The party started at eight. Though she would never want to arrive at a party on time, she was starting to be concerned. Surely he hadn't forgotten...

She heard the bedroom door open. Ethan walked in and set down his briefcase.

"Ethan, darling, I was starting to get worried!" Gwen said as she rushed to give her husband a light kiss.

"I'm sorry. It took longer to take care of everything than I thought it would," he replied distractedly. He sat on the edge of the bed, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his weary eyes with his hands.

He thought of the events of the day. Was it possible? Had he seen Theresa?

_It was just a glimpse_, he told himself. _Maybe my eyes are just playing tricks on me. And even if I did see her, what would it matter? I am married to Gwen, and I trust her. Trust is something that Theresa and I will never share again._

"Are you feeling all right?" Gwen asked sitting next to him.

"Fine. It's just been a long day." Ethan looked at his wife, as if seeing her for the first time since he'd come into the room. "Mrs. Crane, you look beautiful!"

Gwen beamed. "That's the Ethan I know!"

Ethan reached out to touch her face, but Gwen moved away. "My makeup, Ethan," she reminded him.

"Of course," he replied.

Gwen clapped her hands together. "Tonight is going to be so much fun! I can't wait to spend the evening with you. And maybe when we get back, we can have some alone time." She winked at her husband.

"I'm looking forward to spending time with you too, Gwen." He yawned, "I think I'm going to take a shower. Hopefully, that will rejuvenate me."

"I'll be waiting," she promised.

As Ethan and Gwen stood at the top of the staircase leading into the Atkinson's ballroom, Ethan drew in a breath. The place was absolutely exquisite, but he wasn't entirely surprised. The Atkinsons were famous for their lavish parties.

"Their home always looks so beautiful," Ethan commented.

Gwen furrowed her brow and whispered, "I don't know, Ethan. Sometimes I think they try too hard. I suppose I can't blame them, though. The _nouveau riche_ have the tendency to go overboard. The Atkinson fortune went back two generations, but to families with the longevity and ties of the Cranes and Hotchkisses, the Atkinsons were considered upstarts. Still, appearances had to be made, which meant making concessions to people who were social underlings.

"Gwen, you know that a person's worth isn't based on how much money he or she has, or in this case, how long a person's had it."

Gwen squeezed her husband's hand. "I do believe you are the nicest person I've ever known. That's just one of the reasons why I love you so much!"

"And the other reasons?" he teased.

She raised her eyebrows. "I'll show you when we get home."

They descended the stairs and began to mingle. They recognized several couples who came from Boston, as well as people from the social set from Harmony. The Atkinsons, despite their relatively new wealth, had a great number of influential friends and acquaintances. Ethan and Gwen soon learned that there was even a rumor that Al and Tipper Gore might be stopping by later that evening.

After a few minutes of circulating, Ethan pulled Gwen to the dance floor. "I want to dance with the most beautiful woman here tonight," he announced.

As the two moved in step with one another, Gwen smiled. Looking up at Ethan, she said, "Being in your arms is like being in heaven. Do you remember the first time we danced together?"

Ethan smiled at the memory. "We were so young. That must have been fifteen years ago."

"You're right," she replied. "We were young, but not that young. It was fourteen years ago"

"Fourteen? Fifteen? What does it matter?"

She raised an eyebrow. "What a male thing to say. 'What does it matter?' Ethan, it was our first dance, and it was so special to me. How I hated those boarding school mixers until that night. I knew that night you were the man I was going to marry."

"You could tell that from one dance?" he asked.

"Of course. You couldn't?"

"We were just kids, Gwen."

"Well now you make me wonder if you would have given me a second look if our families hadn't been so enthusiastic about our meeting," she brooded.

He sighed. "Sure our families wanted us together, but we wanted to be together. That's what matters."

Her expression softened. "I'm sorry, Ethan. I didn't mean to sound like I was questioning your love for me."

"Don't worry about it, Gwen."

Gwen clung to her husband even tighter as they danced.

Silently, they moved to the music. Ethan surveyed the room full of guests. He noticed that Ivy and Julian had arrived, looking none-too-pleased with one another. In fact, Julian was already making a bee-line to the bar. _Some things never change._

And then something caught his eye or rather, someone. On the far side of the ballroom, Ethan saw a slender girl with long, dark hair. Her back was turned, but his heart starting pounding. Could it be _her_?

She turned around as someone else approached her. No, it wasn't her.

Ethan stiffened. _What is wrong with me?_ his mind screamed. _This has to stop. Gwen is my wife. I love_ her!

"Ethan, are you mad at me?" Gwen asked in a small voice.

He looked down at his wife and mustered a smile. "Absolutely not."

After the music stopped, Ethan told Gwen, "We really should go and speak to Mrs. Atkinson."

Gwen smiled. She had actually been anticipating seeing Mrs. Atkinson. She wanted the old woman and all of her gossip mongers to know that she and Ethan were still very much together. "You're right. Now's a perfect time."

Ethan and Gwen approached Mrs. Atkinson, who was talking to a young lady neither of them knew.

"Oh! Ethan! Gwen! How lovely that you could come tonight!" Mrs. Atkinson exclaimed. She was a heavy-set woman in her mid-sixties, but she was still as boisterous as a twenty year old. She greeted each of them with a kiss.

"Well, this truly is a lovely party," Gwen replied smoothly.

Mrs. Atkinson beamed.

"Yes, Mrs. Atkinson. We are so happy to be here tonight," Ethan added.

"Well, good. Good," Mrs. Atkinson replied. "Ethan and Gwen, I don't believe you have had the opportunity to meet my granddaughter. This is Miranda. She is a junior at Boston University. Miranda, this is Ethan and Gwen Crane."

Miranda and Gwen shook hands. "So nice to meet you," Miranda said.

"Likewise," Gwen said, surveying the younger girl. She was fresh looking, with honey colored hair and porcelain skin. And she wore an amazing dress.

"Ethan," Miranda greeted shaking his hand.

Ethan thought she held onto his hand perhaps longer than was appropriate, but she didn't seem to notice. Nor did Mrs. Atkinson or Gwen.

"Miranda, the lines of your dress are so elegant, yet stylish. And the color and texture are perfect. I simply must know who designed your dress?" Gwen asked.

"It's a Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald original," Miranda proudly announced.

Gwen felt the blood drain from her face. She hated the idea of Theresa creeping into her life, even in the smallest measurement. Whatever supreme being is out there certainly has a strange sense of humor, she thought.

"Yes," interjected Mrs. Atkinson, "Miranda and I flew to New York a few weeks ago specifically to see Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald. Quite honestly, I was struck by how much talent and skill she has for one so young. Miranda could learn a thing or two."

Gwen looked at Ethan, but his expression was unreadable.

"I, for one, am very much looking forward to wearing clothes from her new fall line," Miranda responded.

Mrs. Atkinson looked at her granddaughter and then refocused her attentions to Gwen. "If I recall correctly, doesn't Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald come from Harmony?"

Gwen forced a smile to her face. She desperately wanted to leave this conversation behind.

The last thing she wanted was to hear the praises of Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. She already heard enough from Ivy whenever she lamented her bad luck with personal secretaries since Theresa left town.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, she does come from Harmony. Theresa's mother used to be the head housekeeper for our family."

Mrs. Atkinson raised an eyebrow and harumphed. "Who would ever have imagined she had such humble beginnings?"

"Yes, well, appearances can be deceiving. And from what I understand, her break came because of her late fiancé's financial resources and influence."

Ethan broke his silence by addressing Miranda. "It _is_ a lovely dress, Miranda. I think you are wearing the very evidence which proves that talent is talent, regardless of a person's background."

A small smile crept onto Miranda's features.

But not on Gwen's. She shot her husband a dirty look, and Ethan was fairly certain that they would have words later.

"Sometimes, I just don't understand you, Ethan Crane," Gwen hissed. The two had gone outside on the patio.

It was a warm, humid July evening, and few people wished to be outside. And at that moment, Ethan wished he were someplace else, as well.

"I suppose that makes two of us, Gwen. You can be so generous with people, but turn around and be downright spiteful."

"And you think I don't have the right to be spiteful where Theresa is concerned?" Gwen demanded. "She nearly cost me everything, Ethan! Tell me, would you have married her if I weren't in the picture?"

"Stop trying to antagonize me."

"Is that all you can say? Because, Ethan, if you would rather be with that conniving, manipulative little liar, that can be arranged." Immediately, Gwen wished she could take back the words.

Anger flashed in Ethan's blue eyes, "Gwen, I love you and I am married to you. But do _not_ ever threaten me again."

Gwen's shoulders slumped. "I am sorry, Ethan. I truly am."

He began to cool off. "So am I. It just bothers me to see you dwelling on Theresa, so immersed in hatred. She made mistakes. We all have. It's time to move on." He looked back through the doors where the party was going on. "I would like to leave soon, but first I want to find my father and mother and speak to them."

She nodded, and the two rejoined the party.

"Ethan, my boy, grab a drink," Julian instructed.

"That's ok, Father. I'm driving tonight," Ethan replied.

Leaning against the bar with a brandy in his hand, Julian smirked. "Tsk. Tsk. Don't you ever get tired of being so _responsible? _It must be so exhausting!"

"You make being responsible seem like it's something to be avoided," Ethan observed.

"Take that hot, young minx over there," Julian said indicating Miranda Atkinson. Ethan looked in Miranda's direction, and she smiled suggestively at him. "She's had her eye on you all evening, Son. She's ripe for the picking."

"Father, I'm married, and you know that my vows are important to me."

"Oh, but the _body_ on that girl! I'd like to see what she could do! But of course _you're_ too _responsible_ to do anything about that opportunity. How do you do it? Staying faithful to one woman? Why, it's positively disgusting!"

"That's where we disagree."

"What? No admonishments regarding your mother?" Julian laughed. "I know why. Whether you want to admit it or not, I know that there are other women you would like to take or wish you had already taken. The lovely Theresa, perhaps?"

Ethan's head jerked around.

"Struck a nerve, have I? I could see it in your eyes years ago that you wanted her, and I still see that same look in your eyes. You're hungry."

"And I think the alcohol must have affected your brain, Father."

"You say that now, but we both know the truth. I've noticed that you're still affected by the very mention of her name. And how your mother goes on about her!" Julian rolled his eyes as he mentioned his wife. He scratched his chin and reflected. "You know, there was a time when I considered taking the lovely Theresa to my bed. The things I could show her . . . .," his voice trailed off as he mused to himself.

Ethan shook his head in disgust. "Leave Theresa out of your dirty fantasies!"

Julian looked at Ethan, amused. "And who says chivalry is dead?"

Julian had goaded him, and he knew it. "I can't speak to you when you're like this." With that, Ethan left his father to the brandy.

He looked around the room and saw Gwen who was speaking to Ivy.

"Ethan, dear!" Ivy said when she saw her son.

Ethan forced a smile on his face. The evening was turning out to be worse than a trip to the dentist. He kissed his mother on the cheek.

"I'm so glad to see you and Gwen here tonight. She was just telling me what a wonderful time the two of you are having," Ivy explained.

Ethan looked at his wife and marveled at how they could view the same evening so differently. "Really." It was a statement, not a question.

"Darling, are you almost ready to go home? You just sound so tired," Gwen said, a warning creeping into her voice.

"Yes, I do think that would be a good idea," Ethan agreed.

"Well, I'll see you two later," Ivy said. "I still have the rounds to make."

When Ethan and Gwen returned to the mansion, Ethan flopped down on the bed. What a long day! He hadn't been prepared for the onslaught of reminders of Theresa.

"Get rested up, because when I get out of the shower, I am going to . . . .," and she whispered suggestions in his ear.

Ethan closed his eyes, and he could hear the water of the shower running.

_What is wrong with me? I am being ridiculous! _But the exquisite brown eyes and sad smile still haunted him. He needed to forget. Why couldn't he forget?

He stood and walked to the window, looking out into the darkness. "I've had enough of these memories," he said aloud.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, but we'll make new memories," Gwen said as she embraced Ethan from behind. He'd been so lost in thought, he didn't even hear the water shut off or hear her come out.

Ethan turned around and kissed her deeply. Tonight he would forget. And Gwen was going to help him do it.

_He swallowed hard and felt the blood drain from his face. It couldn't be. How could it be? _

_Blue eyes met brown, and the disbelief and anger in him spoke, "Listen to me, and remember what I say. I don't want to see you again. I don't want to hear from you again. You will not write. You will not call. If you see me coming, you will go the other way. You will __**never**__ bother me again." His voice had an unearthly calm, but his hurt and anger were evident. _

_She cringed, and her brown eyes filled with tears, threatening to spill over. "Ethan, if you'll just hear me out, I know we can clear this up. I know-"_

_He cut her off. "Why should I? I can't believe a word you say."_

_She smiled sadly, "I still believe in you." With that, she turned away._

_He reached out for her, but she was beyond his touch. Always beyond his touch._

Gwen watched her husband as he slept fitfully. He looked as though whatever he was dreaming was quite intense. Should she wake him? Yes, she should, she finally decided. Besides, Ethan had been more passionate with her that night than he had been in a long time. She wouldn't mind feeling his touch again.

She turned to nibble on his ear. She moved down, kissing his neck. When he began to stir, she smiled. But that smile quickly faded.

"Theresa," he mumbled.

Tears stung Gwen's eyes. _After everything we've been through, why can't you let her go? It should've been enough. It should've been enough!_

Panic started to rise in Gwen's heart, but a single thought subsided it. Ethan and Theresa didn't know. They never would know. With Theresa's career flourishing in New York, there was no reason for her to return.

Yes, it was safe_. Wasn't it?_ A small nagging voice still plagued her.

But she found her resolve once more. "God help Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald if she _ever_ sets foot in Harmony again."


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note:

In the summer of 2000 when _Passions_ was still in its early stages, I absolutely adored the relationship between Ethan Crane and Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. I discovered the wonderful world of fanfiction and even had my own fanfiction site, and this story was born through my enthusiasm for this show, this couple, and storytelling. This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, and though there are aspects of the story that I am tempted to change in 2010, I won't because the original (flaws and all) holds a special place in my heart.

I previously posted _The Most Carefully Laid Plans _on my site, Once Upon a Time, as well as on Turtle Run and Coffeerooms. It is no longer in any of those places and hasn't been for quite awhile, though I do still get e-mails from people from time to time wondering where they can find a copy. So in celebration of the tenth anniversary of this story, I decided to post it here.

Obviously, I do not own the _Passions _characters found within the story, though the original characters are my own. Nor am I affiliated in any way with _Passions. _No money is being made from this story. Believe me-if I did control _Passions,_ the show would've gone much differently.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Nine: "Let the Fireworks Begin"**

Theresa loved to run. The harder, the better. Her love of running had started when she first moved to New York. Initially, it had been an outlet to try to escape the proverbial demons that chased her. Later, it was something that she and Chuck enjoyed doing together.

Today she ran by herself. It was actually on a whim. She awoke early, and the rest of the house was still quiet. Slipping on her running shoes, as well as a sports bra and shorts, Theresa made her way to the beach. Starting at one of the piers, she began running toward the next one she could see off in the distance, which was approximately two and a half miles down the beach.

She paced herself, and soon felt invigorated as the tension left her body. The wind wafted off the waters, and Theresa felt as though she was in her own world.

Still, she knew she had a busy day ahead of her. She needed to address the issue of finding her own place to live, as well as beginning to look into the matter of her store. She knew she was fortunate that she no longer had to worry about money. Chuck had left her a sizeable inheritance, but she still couldn't bring herself to touch it. Perhaps when it came time to get the store off the ground... but for now, she did fine on her own.

Nearing the pier which had been her goal, Theresa decided to press on. After what she guessed to be another mile, she prepared to turn around and head back. Yet something caught her eye. It was the cutest little beach house with a 'For Sale' sign. It was a two story house with a walkway on the beach which led up to its deck. She smiled. The house had lots of windows. Just perfect for looking at the water and daydreaming.

"Agh!" she groaned. No paper. _Ok_, she told herself. _Just remember. 555-5199. 5199. 5199_.

Her heart pounded. If she liked the inside of it as much as she liked the outside, she just might have found a new home.

As Theresa came in the back door of the Lopez-Fitzgerald home, which opened into the kitchen, everyone's heads shot up.

"Theresa, I thought you were still sleeping," he said. The family was sitting around the table, eating breakfast. From the looks of things, the twins were getting more food _on_ themselves than _in_ themselves.

Theresa smiled, and Miguel was startled by the excitement that shone in his sister's eyes. "I went running on the beach."

Miguel and Charity exchanged glances.

"Did something happen?" Charity asked her sister-in-law.

Cryptically, Theresa replied, "You could say that." She walked to the refrigerator and wrote on the message board '5199.' With a sigh of relief, she added, "Good. Now I can forget the number."

Theresa walked to where the twins sat in their highchairs and kissed each on the tops of their heads. Turning her attention back to Miguel and Charity, she said, "I'm going to take a shower, but when I get back, I'll tell you all about it. Promise."

She practically floated out of the room.

Miguel turned to Charity. "Wow. What do you make of that?"

"I don't know, Miguel. I just have this thought that keeps coming to mind. Good things are in store for her."

"Yeah. I remember that you said that a few days ago when we were waiting for Theresa to get here. Remember?"

Charity smiled as she poured more milk into Hope and Joy's sippy cups. "I think so. If I recall, you asked me if it was a prediction."

"And if I recall, you never did answer me."

She shrugged. "Since finding out both my mother and Aunt Grace had the Gift, it's explained a whole lot of these feelings I get. But I still can't control them, and you know that I'm not always sure how accurate they are."

Miguel looked at his daughters and reflected, "I wonder if our girls will have the Gift."

"I'm not sure. In many ways, I think it would be easier if they didn't have it. Sometimes, it's better not to know things," Charity responded. She still remembered her premonition that her cousin, Kay, and friend, Simone, would burn in Hell. The images of pain and suffering remained with her.

Miguel glanced at the phone number Theresa had written on the message board. "Maybe she met someone?" he suggested. "It _has_ been a year since Chuck died."

"She still wears his ring on her hand. I don't think she met a man."

"But why else would she have come back with a phone number?"

"We'll find out soon enough."

After another ten minutes had passed, Theresa came back downstairs carrying Serendipity. She took the cat to the small laundry room to give it food and water. As she entered the kitchen, she found Miguel and Charity waiting anxiously for her.

Theresa grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and rinsed it in the sink. She began to speak animatedly. "When I was running this morning on the beach, I saw the cutest house! I'm going to call about it today."

"Theresa, you know that there's no rush. You're welcome to stay with us for as long as you like."

With gratitude, she smiled. "I know, and both of you have made me feel so welcome. But the fact of the matter is that you have your own family now, and you need your space."

"And young, single ladies need their own space," Charity added, touching Miguel's arm. She could tell that Theresa was determined, and Charity was a little afraid that her husband might make his sister feel guilty.

Theresa laughed. "And there's something else I want to tell the two of you. It's something I haven't mentioned before, but it's been going through my mind quite a bit in these last few days. I'm going to open a store. A boutique actually."

Miguel nearly choked on his juice. "A store?" he asked. He looked at his wife, remembering what Charity had said about good things being in _store_ for Theresa. Could this have been what she meant?

Theresa misinterpreted his reaction. "Don't look so shocked! Your sister has a few things up her sleeve. Besides, I can't leave fashion design altogether. I might not be living in New York City anymore, but I'm determined to make my mark."

Charity hugged Theresa. "That's so exciting!"

"It's always been a dream of mine," Theresa replied, suddenly quiet.

Miguel noticed his sister's shift in mood and called her on it. "Theresa, what's wrong?"

"I talked to Whitney about this yesterday. Miguel, I want so badly for this to work out, but I'm scared."

"Why?" Miguel asked, concern filling his brown eyes.

"I'm afraid that Gwen or Ivy Crane will do something to cause problems for me. Whitney tried to tell me that I was just being paranoid, but I can't help but feel wary of them."

"Whitney's right, Theresa. Don't let your fears get the better of you. Sure a lot of things happened, but it was a long time ago. If they were going to find some way to seek revenge against you, don't you think they would already have done it?"

Theresa sat down at the kitchen table. "I didn't really give them an opportunity. I left town not long after the wedding, and I stayed away. But I have the feeling that once the Cranes find out that I'm back, they're not going to be pleased. Besides, I just keep thinking of that old saying: 'Revenge is a dish best served cold.' What if they're just waiting?"

"Theresa, you are going to drive yourself crazy with 'what ifs.'," Charity interjected.

Miguel agreed, "Charity's right. Besides, if I know my sister the way I think I do, I don't think that they could throw anything at you that you can't handle. So tell me more about this house."

Theresa smiled, "It is perfect. It overlooks the ocean, and it has a huge deck . . . ."

* * *

Gwen Crane sat in her office and drank a cup of coffee. It was her third cup that morning. It was turning out to be a rotten day. The Heiderman acquisition was in danger of failure, her personal secretary was at home with the flu, and to top it off, she'd managed to get a run in her new pantyhose that morning.

Perhaps if she'd had more sleep the night before, she would be up to dealing with these annoyances. But last night was a night she would rather forget. The arguments that she and Ethan had at the Atkinsons' party certainly didn't do anything to repair the image of their marriage. That, coupled with Ethan calling Theresa's name in his sleep, had made it nearly impossible for Gwen to find any peace.

_Concentrate,_ she told herself. She tried looking at the dossier her secretary had prepared on the Heiderman company before she took ill, but her mind kept drifting. _I've got to get cracking. Especially if I expect Father to send me on this assignment._

She finally began matching some figures. "Ah, progress."

"I'm glad you think so, but I, for one, think you've taken a step back."

Gwen looked up and saw her mother standing in the open doorway.

Rebecca Hotchkiss sauntered into her daughter's office and sat in the chair across the desk from Gwen, but not before she closed the door behind her.

Gwen looked up and felt her body tense. "Not _now,_ Mother."

Rebecca shook her head. "You foolish, foolish girl. After what happened last night, you can't afford to ignore what I have to say."

Gwen put down the file she was reading. "Fine. Let's get this over with so I can get back to work."

"How can you be at work right now, Gwen? You should be with your husband."

"Well, Mother, it just so happens that my husband is at work at this moment, too. What do you want me to do? Wait on him to come home all day long? Or should I follow him to work like a puppy dog?"

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "You can't afford to not have your eyes on him. I heard about last night's party. What were you thinking?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come now. Don't be coy. It isn't very becoming. God, Gwen! You're my daughter! I would think you would've learned something from me after all these years and be a little smarter about your reputation!"

Gwen met her mother's steady gaze. "What... what did you hear?" she stammered.

"Apparently, you and Ethan had a number of squabbles. It was my understanding that you were going to this party to dispel rumors, not create new ones."

"It wasn't like that. Yes, I did get upset with him, but we were discreet when we ... discussed ... our difference of opinion."

"Not discreet enough. What was so important that you couldn't put on a happy face and wait until the two of you returned home to discuss the matter?"

Gwen rubbed her forehead, trying to decide whether she should be honest with her mother. "It was Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. Her name came up in a conversation that Ethan and I were having with Mrs. Atkinson and her granddaughter, Miranda."

"Not again. Gwen, what have I told you? Ethan is the type of man who takes in strays. By vilifying that girl, you only make him want to rescue her. Be smart!"

"I know. I know. It's just that it drives me crazy to hear people singing her praises. And for Ethan to defend her after she stabbed me in the back? Unbelievable."

"I tried to warn you about this before the two of you even married. Men are stupid, Gwen. If they _do_ put any thought into their actions, they certainly aren't thinking with their brains. Let's face it; if you did not keep such a close eye on Ethan, he would be as much of a womanizer as Julian."

Gwen stood up and crossed her arms. "That's not true. Ethan is a good man. He would never betray me."

"If you believe he would never betray you, why did we go to all the trouble to make sure that Theresa would be taken out of the picture? Ethan is a man like any other, and we both know that."

Gwen slumped down in her chair. "I am so tired of feeling this way always on edge. "

"Then press your advantage. You are Ethan's wife, Gwen. That will not change unless you do something stupid," Rebecca said. " Listen, I've taken the liberty of talking to your father about removing you from the Heiderman acquisition."

"He can't do that!" Gwen protested.

"It's already done," Rebecca informed her daughter. "You can't afford to put your marriage on hold in favor of a business venture and all the traveling that would accompany such an assignment. Remember this, Gwen: distance makes the heart grow fonder... for other people. If you turn your back on Ethan, he will find a warm body to fill his bed."

"Mother, you had no right to interfere!"

"I had every right to interfere. I would much rather see this merger with Heiderman fall through, than to see this merger with the Cranes fall through."

"My marriage is not a business merger!"

"Go ahead and tell yourself that, but we both know otherwise. It was planned from the beginning. Still, the fact of the matter is that you aren't indispensable to the Heiderman Company or to the Crane Family." With that, Rebecca left.

Gwen laid her head on her desk, fighting back the tears. Was her mother right?

* * *

Ethan walked into Brazen, Chad Harris's restaurant and nightspot. The lunch crowd was waning, so finding Chad wasn't too difficult.

"Ethan, my man!" Chad said coming from behind the bar. "Glad you're here."

"Well your phone call had me intrigued. You said you wanted to talk to me about something important," Ethan said taking a seat at one of the barstools. Chad sat next to him.

"Yeah, man. Well, it's like this. My wedding to Whitney is coming up and I was just wonderin' if you'd stand up for me. Be my best man."

A smile spread onto Ethan's features. "Really? You want me as your best man?"

Chad explained further. "Yeah. You know, it's funny cause you and I most definitely _don't_ come from the same side of the tracks, but we're tight, you know?"

"Chad, I would be honored to stand up for you. I consider you to be one of my closest friends."

"Good. Then it's settled."

"Absolutely."

Whitney came in and watched as Chad and Ethan shook hands, almost like two little boys with a secret handshake. She couldn't but smile when she saw them.

She walked to the bar, and stood next to Chad, who put his arm around her. One of the first thoughts that came to her mind was to wonder whether Ethan had spoken to Theresa. Though based on the fact that Ethan didn't hurl questions at her, Whitney gathered that Ethan hadn't.

"Hello, Whitney."

"Hi Ethan."

Chad looked at Whitney. "I've got some good news. Ethan here is gonna be my best man."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Whitney exclaimed. "I'm so glad to hear it!"

"It will be my first time," Ethan explained. "I've been a groom, but never a groomsman."

"I guess there's a first time for everything," Whitney commented.

"Listen, you two, I hate to rush off, but I have an appointment with a client in about half an hour."

"I understand," Chad said. "Look, why don't you stop in soon, and we'll talk more about the wedding."

"Sure thing," Ethan said standing. "Whitney, I'll see you later."

"Bye, Ethan."

Whitney and Chad watched him leave, and she smiled at her fiancé. "So Ethan is going to be your best man? Wow! I'm glad the two of you have become such good friends."

"Yeah. Me too. Ethan's a good guy."

Then realization struck Whitney like a ton of bricks. She grabbed Chad's arm. "Oh no!"

"What? What is it?" Concern etched Chad's handsome features.

"Chad, I talked to Theresa yesterday. I didn't even think!"

"You called Theresa yesterday?"

"No, I saw her!"

"Girl's back in town? Get out! That's great!"

Whitney groaned. It was going to be a disaster! What were they going to do?

"Chad, you don't understand. I asked Theresa to be my _maiden of honor._"

Chad grinned and rubbed his hands together. "Looks like we're in for some fireworks."


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note: In the summer of 2000 when _Passions_ was still in its early stages, I absolutely adored the relationship between Ethan Crane and Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. I discovered the wonderful world of fanfiction and even had my own fanfiction site, and this story was born through my enthusiasm for this show, this couple, and storytelling. This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, and though there are aspects of the story that I am tempted to change in 2010, I won't because the original (flaws and all) holds a special place in my heart.

I previously posted _The Most Carefully Laid Plans _on my site, Once Upon a Time, as well as on Turtle Run and Coffeerooms. It is no longer in any of those places and hasn't been for quite awhile, though I do still get e-mails from people from time to time wondering where they can find a copy. So in celebration of the tenth anniversary of this story, I decided to post it here.

Obviously, I do not own the _Passions _characters found within the story, though the original characters are my own. Nor am I affiliated in any way with _Passions. _No money is being made from this story. Believe me-if I did control _Passions,_ the show would've gone much differently.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Ten: "On the Pier"**

The last couple of weeks had passed in a blur, but Theresa knew this would be a day she would always remember. Today was the day she planned to finally move into her new home. The bulk of her things would be arriving from New York, too, and Theresa was looking forward to being surrounded by her own things. Sure it was great to be back in the old house and relive memories of her family, but it was time to move on. And she couldn't wait to go to sleep with the sound of the waves crashing onto the beach filling her ears.

As she stood in her old room, she looked at the photograph of her mother and wished Pilar were there. "Mama, would you be proud of me now?" Theresa whispered. It hurt her to know that she had disappointed her mother so grievously. She swallowed hard, fighting back the tears. More than anything else, she just never wanted to see her mother hurt again.

She had actually spoken to Pilar on the phone a few days ago. When Pilar learned that Theresa had returned to Harmony, she was quite concerned. No amount of promising her mother that she was over Ethan Crane seemed to appease her. It almost made Theresa wonder if her mother knew something she did not.

Theresa flopped down on her bed. How strange to think that she wouldn't be sleeping in it that night. She looked up at her ceiling, seeing the glow-in-the-dark stars she had secured overhead when she was younger. Tonight, she would be sleeping under the real stars. The master bedroom of her new home featured a skylight. It was perfect for stargazing.

She sat up after deciding that she really needed to get to work at packing up the few things she had brought from New York, as well as a few things she wanted to take with her. She walked to the bookcase and looked for her copy of _Jane Eyre_. She sighed as she thought of the book. It was the quintessential, classic romance novel. Two people brought together but torn apart...the pain of deception...secrets galore...and a happy ending.

As she pulled the book from the shelf, she noticed something that she hadn't noticed before. Her eyes grew wide once the realization of what it was struck her. "My old diary!"

Gingerly, she held the diary, uncertain whether she wanted to open it. She had written so many of her hopes and dreams on that paper, hopes and dreams that had never been fulfilled. _That had no business being fulfilled,_ she added to herself. This diary, as well as her computer journal, was where she had once confided her innermost thoughts and feelings.

_Should I? _she asked herself. She paused for a moment, like a dieter debating whether to eat a cookie. _No, I shouldn't, but I will anyway. _

She opened the cover and began to read.

_April 18, 2000_

_Dear Diary,_

_Whitney came and stayed with me tonight. I have a feeling about Chad Harris and her. Whether she wants to admit it or not, I know there is something between them. I just wish her mother didn't disapprove of him. Whit wants so much to be like her mom that I am afraid she is going to give up this chance for love._

_If I ever had a chance for love with Ethan, I would never let it pass me by. Love is simply too precious. _

_The time that Ethan and I share is like being in heaven! It just can't get any better than this! The other night after working on wedding plans, Ethan took me home. He ended up staying late, and we had the best time. We made cookies, and played a silly game, and just laughed and laughed. But there was a time when I was certain he wanted to kiss me. He told me that my eyes were exquisite. The way he looked at me just made me want to melt._

_I hate feeling as though I am deceiving him. I know I should tell Ethan that Chuck and I were never together... that when I speak of my feelings, I was talking about him, not Chuck. I'm scared, though. There's just no way around that. If I tell him, he will think that I was purposely trying to drive a wedge between Gwen and him, and that's not it at all! _

_Diary, I know that Fate intends for us to be together. If I just believe hard enough and wait long enough, it will happen. I know it will._

Theresa closed the diary. "Silly little girl. You were focused on the wrong things." It was ironic to her that she _did _later end up falling in love with Chuck.

Theresa could honestly say that she learned a life's lesson through her experiences those years ago. She learned what she wished she had figured out long before then. If a person tells lies, pretty soon, people won't believe him or her when the truth is being told. It's just like the little shepherd boy who cried wolf.

_No. That was the old Theresa_, she told herself. The grown up version knew what it was to love, and be loved in return. Because of that, there were certain things she would never accept again.

"Theresa, are you up here?" Luis's voice called from the hallway.

"I'm in my bedroom, Luis," Theresa called back.

Luis came in carrying Serendipity. Theresa couldn't help but smile at the sight. She always thought that Luis was such a "tough guy." It was funny to see him carrying the fluffy, pug-nosed Himalayan cat.

"I thought I'd bring your cat up here," he explained as he passed Serendipity to her. "The twins were chasing after him, and I was a little concerned they were scaring him too much."

Theresa stroked the cat's thick, long fur and then snuggled it to her. "Were they making you feel like a scaredy cat?" she asked the cat.

Luis raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"You treat the cat like it's family," Luis commented.

"Well, you're the one who rescued him. You must understand why," Theresa replied. "Serendipity_ is _a member of my family. Obviously not like you and Miguel, but he's family nonetheless."

Luis crossed his arms. "Because Chuck gave him to you."

Theresa nodded. Her voice grew soft. "Serendipity was part of Chuck's marriage proposal, and Chuck never did anything half-way. I really miss him."

Luis sat on the edge of Theresa's bed. "I know. It's just that..." Luis debate with himself. Should he go on or just let Theresa be?

Theresa frowned and put down the cat. "It's just that _what_?"

There was no turning back, Luis realized. "It's just that it's been over a year since Chuck died, and you're still wearing his engagement ring. I see young men approach you, and you turn them all away. I don't want you to shut yourself off from people, Theresa."

"Is that what you think I do? Because I don't want to put on a happy face and pretend that Chuck never mattered to me? We planned a life together, Luis! I thought that you would understand that." Tears spilled down her cheeks.

Luis stood and took his sister's hand. "I'm not asking you to pretend that Chuck never existed. But you and I both know that he would have wanted you to move on and find happiness with someone else."

"Luis, you are my big brother, and I love you, but you have _no idea_ of what you're talking about. I am moving on. I'm opening my boutique; I'm about to start living in new home; I spend time with friends and family. What do you want from me?"

"It's not what I want from you, Sis. It's what I want for you. I want your life to be filled with laughter and happiness. I want you to have someone to come home to and share those dreams of yours with." Luis wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Maybe I'm just being an overprotective big brother, the way Sheridan says I sometimes act toward Miguel, but I remember how you used to have this fire in your eyes, Theresa."

"Believe me. If I knew how to stop missing Chuck, I would stop. My life would be much easier if I didn't think about him, but my feelings for him aren't a light switch that can be turned on and off, Luis!"

Luis drew his sister to him. "Shhh. I know. I know," he said stroking her hair. "Just leave room for someone else when the time comes, okay?"

Theresa nodded.

Luis released her and pointed to some boxes Theresa had stacked up. "Do you need help getting these over to the new house?"

"That would be great," she replied, drying her eyes.

Luis picked up a couple of boxes and was getting ready to make his way out of the room, when Theresa stopped him.

"Luis, wait!"

He turned to face his sister. "I love you," she told him.

"I love you, too, Theresa."

"Theresa, this house is so lovely," Sheridan commented as she stood in the living room which looked out to the ocean. "What an amazing view!"

Theresa sat on the floor, cutting open boxes earmarked for the living room, that had been sent from New York. "Thanks, Sheridan. Maybe when I get everything for my kitchen unpacked, you can come over and we can cook together."

Sheridan laughed. "That sounds great. By the way, I made lasagna last night."

"Really? How did it turn out?"

"Surprisingly well. I never realized how flimsy lasagna noodles could be, though. I had to struggle with layering everything. Macaroni and cheese is much easier to prepare! But I knew that it was all worthwhile when Luis went back for seconds."

"Good girl!" Theresa praised.

"Actually, everything you've shown me how to make has been a big hit," Sheridan commented. "Even that first day when you taught me how to make cookies. Luis loved them, and Ethan stopped by and had some, too. He was acting so strangely, though. Said he was reminded of something."

Theresa looked away from Sheridan and focused on removing the contents of the box she was working on. Seeing Theresa's reaction, Sheridan wished she hadn't spoken. "I'm sorry, Theresa. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

"It's not your fault. If anything, I'm uncomfortable with how I behaved where Ethan is concerned. I know Ethan is your nephew, and you spend time with him. Don't feel as though you have to walk on egg shells around me."

Two movers came in, carrying a large crate with them. "What should we do with this, Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald?"

"For now, just set it in that corner," she replied, indicating one of the few empty spaces in the living room.

After the men placed the crate where Theresa specified, they went back outside, bringing more loads in. Sheridan investigated the crate, curious about just what Theresa had inside.

Sensing Sheridan's curiosity, Theresa explained, "It's just my art supplies and easel."

"For designing?"

"No, I actually use a draft table for designing. This is for painting."

"You've been holding out on me!" Sheridan exclaimed.

Luis walked in. "Who's been holding out on what?"

Sheridan turned to her husband. "Theresa is an artist."

"Yeah? It doesn't surprise me. Theresa has always been the creative one in the family."

Theresa felt herself blushing. They hadn't even seen any of her work, and they were already bragging on her. "It's not that big of a deal," she insisted. "And between working on designs and getting the boutique ready to open, I doubt there will be much time to devote to painting."

"So did you finally decide what you wanted to call your store?" Sheridan asked.

Theresa clasped her hands together and laughed. "I'm actually thinking about calling it Serendipity."

"After your cat?" Luis asked.

Theresa playfully hit Luis in the arm. "No silly! Serendipity is something that is found by a chance discovery. I guess you could say that it's a happy accident. Sure, the name applies to my kitty, but it applies to the shop, as well. When ladies come into my boutique, I want them to feel that they have made wonderful discoveries. Chance discoveries, even."

Luis sighed. "You and your talk of serendipity and fate!"

"You _know_ I believe that fate directs our paths, Luis."

"I, for one, am just glad that this is going to happen for you, Theresa," Sheridan said.

"Yeah. Me, too, sis." Luis added before kissing the top of Theresa's head. "Listen, I just came in to let you know that I'm going to Charity and Miguel's to get some more of your things."

"Thanks, Luis."

"Sure thing."

After he left, Theresa turned back to Sheridan. "When you mentioned Ethan earlier, it made me wonder about something."

"What's that?"

"Do he and the rest of your family know that I'm back in town?"

Sheridan shook her head. "I haven't said anything."

"I've been worried about how they would react. I didn't leave on such good terms with everyone. And even Mama was worried about my returning here to stay permanently."

"Theresa, I won't lie to you. I can guarantee that Gwen won't be happy to see you. I doubt you have much to worry about from anyone else, though."

"Even Ivy? She was so upset when she thought that I might be an obstacle to Ethan and Gwen's marriage."

Sheridan laughed. "To hear her talk, she misses you desperately. She's had a host of disastrous personal secretaries. Any anger she had was forgotten long ago."

"That's a relief. I mean, I know that I'm not out of the woods yet, but it still makes me feel better to know that Ivy doesn't keep a dartboard with my picture as the bulls-eye."

Sheridan tried to imagine the blue-blooded Ivy Crane participating in anything she would consider so common. The idea of Ivy throwing darts struck Sheridan as utterly hilarious.

"Theresa, just hold your head up high. Look down to no one."

Theresa nodded. "You're right."

The more time Theresa spent with Sheridan, the more she could see why Ethan had always confided in her and why Luis loved her so deeply. Sheridan Lopez-Fitzgerald was definitely one of a kind.

* * *

Chad, Whitney, and Ethan walked out of the movie theater. They had just been to see Mel Gibson's latest epic, 'The Crusader.' Ethan had actually asked Gwen to go with them, but she decided that if 'The Crusader' was as bloody as 'Braveheart' or 'The Patriot,' she'd rather stay home. The movie had been great, Ethan decided. _Her loss._

"Man, that was awesome! Never seen anything like it!" Chad exclaimed.

"I know what you mean. When his character went after Saladin in that last sequence, I could just see the anger in his eyes," Ethan agreed.

"Men!" Whitney said rolling her eyes. "I liked the love story much better than all that blood."

Chad and Ethan looked at each other and laughed. In unison, they said, "Women!"

"Looks like _I'm_ hopelessly outnumbered."

"No, Baby. You ain't gonna win in the battle of the sexes tonight," Chad informed her before kissing her on the cheek.

Ethan turned to his friends. "Chad, Whitney, I had a great time tonight. I think I'll go for a walk on the beach before heading home. Maybe it'll help clear my head."

"Sure thing. Look out, though. I hear there might be a storm comin' later," Chad said to Ethan.

"I'm sure I'll be home and fast asleep before that happens," Ethan assured his friend.

"Goodnight, Ethan. Please send Gwen our best," Whitney said.

"Thank you. I will."

_Perhaps I should have been more discreet. I think Chad and Whitney could tell that I wasn't anxious to get home to Gwen,_ Ethan thought.

Gwen had announced earlier in the evening that she didn't want to wait any longer to have children. The thought petrified Ethan. When he and Gwen had discussed it before, they had both agreed to wait another year or two. _What had changed Gwen's mind? And why am I so afraid of being a father?_ he asked himself.

As he walked on the beach, he could feel the wind picking up. It was a warm summer night, and the wind was a welcome addition. He continued to walk and eventually found himself on the pier where he had stood a few weeks ago when he thought he had caught a glimpse of Theresa. He had convinced himself that it couldn't have been her. After all, surely they would have run into each other by now if she were in town.

He hated to admit it, but he had started to wonder about Theresa quite regularly. It was one thing for her to haunt his dreams, but a different matter entirely that he was thinking more of her during his waking hours. He knew that she had become successful in the fashion industry, but he was curious to know what it was like getting to that point. And how did she like living in New York City? And how was she dealing with the loss of her fiancéé? _And does Theresa ever think about me?_ he added silently.

He walked to the edge of the pier and leaned against its railing, looking out over the ocean's choppy waves. _Something has to change,_ he told himself.

* * *

Theresa's living room was actually starting to resemble...a living room. She sighed with relief. It was getting late, and she was tired of unpacking, but she was unwilling to go to bed.

She heard the waves crashing outside, and felt the beach calling to her.

Serendipity brushed against Theresa's legs, and she giggled. Cat fur always tickled her. She leaned down and pet the cat. "You're such a sweet kitty."

Serendipity meowed in response, as if understanding what Theresa meant.

Theresa looked outside, wanting to go out. "I know it's supposed to storm, but I can't help it, kitty. I've got to go for a walk and feel the ocean breeze."

She laughed to herself. "Don't worry about me, Serendipity. I'll take my umbrella. I know I saw it around here somewhere," she said looking for it. She whipped it out of a box. "Ah hah! Not only will I stay dry if it rains, I can also beat any bad guys over the head with it!"

Grabbing her keys, she went out the back, through the deck and onto the beach.

The wind definitely was picking up, but she didn't care anymore. She had this wonderful sense of freedom. She twirled around and laughed. Anyone who saw her would probably think she was a mad woman, but she didn't care.

She continued on toward the pier, wanting to stand over the water.

When she finally stepped onto the pier, she noticed a man with his back turned was already there. She turned to go back, but something stopped her . . . . a sense of familiarity.

Quietly, she walked closer, wanting to find out who the man was. He turned his head slightly, and Theresa knew. It was Ethan!

Her heart pounded. _Turn around, Theresa! Forget that you saw him! _her mind screamed. But the word had already escaped her mouth. "Ethan."

He turned and looked at her, surprise etching his handsome features. And what he had told her the last time they spoke came to the forefront of her mind. _"Listen to me, and remember what I say. I don't want to see you again. I don't want to hear from you again. You will not write. You will not call. If you see me coming, you will go the other way. You will __**never **__bother me again."_

She swallowed hard. What was she doing? He didn't want to see her!

"Theresa!" He was shocked. He had dreamed of seeing her again, but now that this moment had come, he wasn't sure of what to do or say.

Their eyes met for an instant, but she turned away and started to leave. Yet the words that he spoke halted her retreat. "Theresa, please don't go!"


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **Obviously, I do not own _Passions_. If I did, the show would have been so much different.

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**Chapter Eleven: "Nothing and Everything"**

Theresa froze. Slowly, she turned to face the man who had once held her heart so tightly in his grasp. She had known that this time would come eventually, but she still hadn't been prepared for that inevitability. In all honesty, she had never expected him to speak to her again; yet he _had_ spoken.

Their eyes met again, and Theresa expected to see the harsh, angry look she'd seen so long ago, but it wasn't there anymore.

"Please Theresa. Wait for a moment, won't you?" his voice was calm, even soothing.

Hesitantly, she nodded. She knew she was staring at him, but she just didn't care anymore. He was even more handsome than she had remembered. The lights from the pier served to make him look like he had an aura about him.

_Where is this coming from?_ she asked herself in disgust. _As Mama always tried to tell me, nothing good will come from this!_

Ethan teased her. "Cat got your tongue?"

She smiled weakly. "Something like that. I...I just can't imagine what there is for us to say to each other."

"Nothing. And everything." He turned his back to her and leaned against the rail. In the distance, lightning was starting to flash, creating an amazing illusion of fire. She walked to the end of the pier and stood next to him. He nodded toward the storm in the distance. "It looks like the world is on fire."

"I think that maybe it is," she replied quietly.

He looked at her, feeling her nearness. He had the strongest fear that he was going to awaken and find this moment was a dream. But regardless, he was going to make the best of it.

"I've wondered about you," he said simply.

"Have you?" Theresa tried to keep her voice neutral, noncommittal. She didn't want to betray the tumult of her emotions.

"Quite often, actually. You look well."_ More than well,_ he added to himself. How could it be possible that she was even more beautiful than he remembered? He thought that if he ever saw her again, her hold over him would be broken, but he felt himself being drawn in further.

"Thank you, Ethan. So do you."

"I hadn't expected to see you here tonight. How long are you in town?"

Should she tell him? How would he react? "Indefinitely," she finally replied.

"What about your fashion career?"

Surprised, she asked, "You know about that?"

"Who in Harmony doesn't? 'Hometown girl finds success in the big city.' You're something of a local hero."

She shrugged. "I didn't realize." _Stop cowering!_ she told herself. She took a deep breath and decided that it was time to meet whatever was coming her way head on. "I know that my career probably would flourish more if I were staying in New York, but I'm tired, Ethan. I'm tired of running from these demons of my past that have chased me for so long. I told Sheridan this. . . ."

Ethan interrupted. "Sheridan knows you're here?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yes, but please don't be angry with her for not telling you. She and Whit wanted to let me handle things my way."

"Whitney and Chad know, too? I was just with them tonight, and they didn't say a word about it!" Ethan shook his head in disgust. "You know, a couple of weeks ago, I was here on this very same pier. I looked down the beach, and I thought I saw you. Up until tonight, I had all but convinced myself that my eyes were playing a trick on me. But that was you, wasn't it?"

"Probably. I've been in Harmony for a little over two weeks. But I want you to know that I'm not here to cause problems for you. I never even _intended_ to see you."

Ethan looked closely at the young woman standing next to him and could see the earnestness in her expression. Any anger he had once felt toward her had long since melted away. "I know you aren't here to cause problems for me. Besides, if you were, you would have already tried something."

Theresa rolled her eyes and smiled. "Thanks so much for the vote of confidence," she said wryly.

He smiled. "Actually, I'm glad you're here."

"Really?" Theresa felt her heart flutter, and mentally cursed herself. She hated to feel as though she were that seventeen year old girl again, who basked in Ethan's presence.

"I feel badly about the way we left things. You weren't honest with me, but I wasn't completely honest with you, either. Or myself. I should have handled things differently. I regret that I made you feel as though you _had_ to leave."

Theresa lifted her head high, Irish-Latin pride surging through her. "My leaving wasn't entirely about you, Ethan," she informed him coolly. "Believe it or not, I did want more for myself than to be Mrs. Ethan Crane. And I was _determined_. And I made it _happen_."

Ethan ran his fingers through his hair. "I guess _I've _been told."

"Well, what do you want me to say?" she asked crossing her arms. "If we get right down to the heart of the matter, yes, I was devastated. After what happened the night at the cabin, I counted on something that I shouldn't have. I believed in you more than I had a right to believe in anyone but myself. I was a stupid little girl who learned one of life's lessons the hard way. I think we both know that I had it coming."

Drops of rain began to fall on the two of them, and the shower began to pick up intensity. Theresa took the umbrella and moved closer to Ethan, holding it over both their heads.

"I think we both got a quick dose of reality," he replied quietly.

"Is your life what you imagined it would be, Ethan?"

"I don't know that anyone's life is ever how they imagine it, Theresa."

"I guess you're right. I always thought I would be designing maternity clothes for myself by now."

Ethan touched Theresa's cheek. He noticed that her eyes had a faraway look. "I was sorry to hear about Chuck."

Theresa licked her lips. "Thank you," she said simply. Ethan could tell from her mannerisms that she didn't want to discuss Chuck further. She had closed herself off.

Rain beat down on the umbrella. "It doesn't look like it's going to let up anytime soon, does it?"

"No. The big storms rarely do."

"Do you feel as awkward about all of this as I do?"

She laughed. "Yes! I'm glad I'm not the only one!"

"Are you happy?" he asked suddenly looking at her with his intense blue eyes.

"That's funny. I was going to ask you the same question."

"I asked first, Theresa. Are you happy?"

"Happy?" she echoed. "I don't know what I am anymore, Ethan. You know, I didn't expect to see you. I thought I would come to the pier, perhaps watch the storm, and leave. I wasn't prepared for this!"

"For what?"

"Dredging up the past, the memories." _Looking at you and trying not to feel anything_, she silently added.

"There is too much of a past between us," he conceded. "We will never be friends again."

"We were more than friends, Ethan, whether you want to admit it or not. But you're right. Under the circumstances, it would not be appropriate."

He swallowed hard, "No. It wouldn't be." He felt her slipping away from him, just as she always did in his dreams. _Not this time,_ he told himself. He took her hand, and intertwined his fingers with her own.

His action caught her by surprise, but it felt like the most natural thing in the world. She sensed the electricity pass between them, the electricity that had always been there.

"Do you think of me often?" she asked impulsively. As soon as she said it, she wished she could take it back. Knowing his answer would be a double-edged sword. If he did not think of her, she would be hurt. Yet if he did think of her, what good could come of that?

He held her hand to his cheek. "Only every day of my life."

She drew in a breath. "This is crazy! What am I doing here?" she asked escaping from his touch.

"Why, you're keeping me dry, of course," he replied innocently.

Theresa could not help but smile at his tongue-in-cheek response. "Well, I'm afraid that I won't be able to keep you dry any longer." With that, she walked away from Ethan Crane for the second time in her life.

When Theresa got home, she was shaking. Had she really just seen Ethan? What a strange, tempestuous night it had turned out to be!

She sat on the floor against a wall and drew her knees to her chest. She had been trying to fight against the tears that were threatening to appear, but she knew she was about to lose that fight. Tears began to flow freely, and Theresa became angry with herself. "Stop it! Stop it!" she said furiously wiping the tears away. "Don't do this to yourself!"

Theresa looked up to the heavens and prayed. "_Por favor, Dios_. Make these feelings go away!"

She knew she couldn't see him again. For her own sanity, they would have to steer clear of each other. Too many unresolved feelings remained.

* * *

"Ethan Crane, do you know how late it is? I have been worried sick about you!" Gwen exclaimed as her husband opened the door to their bedroom.

She had been pacing frantically, going through every imaginable scenario as to where he could be. And, of course, her mother had called that night wanting to speak with Ethan about a legal matter. Explaining to Rebecca Hotchkiss that Ethan was out with friends was not a pleasant experience for Gwen. Once her mother heard that bit of information, she had her daughter so worked up that Gwen could even imagine that Ethan was with another woman.

"I'm sorry, Gwen. The movie let out late, but I was so wound up, I decided to go for a walk."

"You should have called," she scolded.

"I know," he replied, drawing her close to him. His lips found hers. "Forgive me?" he asked after a moment.

"Not yet," she replied before kissing him again. She put her arms around his waist and could feel his rain-drenched clothes clinging to his body. She smiled, "I think we should get you out of these wet clothes."

"Mmm. What a wonderful idea," he said, nibbling on her ear. "You do know that I love you, don't you Gwen?" Ethan asked suddenly with intensity.

Gwen was puzzled. "I've always known, Ethan," she replied. She tugged at his wet shirt and pulled it over his head.

Ethan watched his wife as she slept peacefully, unaware of his turmoil. Gwen was the woman he had loved for half his life. And he felt hopelessly guilty. In the back of his mind, he had always thought that if he ever saw Theresa, he would be able to finally put the past they shared behind him. Now he knew that theory had been wrong. If anything, seeing Theresa had made his lingering feelings for her all the more acute.

_No more thoughts of Theresa,_ he promised himself. He was simply going to have to avoid Theresa, for his own sake and for the sake of his marriage.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: **I've enjoyed playing puppeteer with the _Passions _characters, but I do not own them. Obviously, no money is being made from this story either.

**Author's Note: ** This story is quite AU when compared with how Passions turned out. It was written long before certain facts were established, such as Paloma living in Mexico. I've chosen to leave it preserved in its original form.

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**Chapter Twelve: "Hook, Line, and Sinker"**

Theresa's morning run was longer and harder than usual. The demons were chasing her; the same demons she once thought she could escape. She was beginning to think her demons never would leave her in peace. Though they'd never been far from her, it wasn't until last night that they came into full view again.

She was angry with herself. There was no way around that simple fact. Last night's events kept playing through her mind, though she tried to fight the impulse. Her love for Ethan Crane had nearly destroyed her once. How could she allow any feelings for him to gain a foothold once again? It was lunacy!

No, she'd known real love with Chuck. She wouldn't, _couldn't_, betray his memory. Regardless of what Luis said about how she needed to move on with her life, Theresa still felt that being with anyone else would undermine the bond she shared with Chuck. It nearly destroyed her when Chuck died, and she was determined that no one, including Ethan, would ever have that kind of hold over her again. _Besides_, she added with a small touch of humor, _Luis would never approve of Ethan and me. Though if he thought I was interested in Ethan, that might make him leave me alone about moving on._

She was intent on pouring all of her energy and attention into the boutique and clothing line. The workers had already begun renovating the store space she was leasing. In a matter of days, they would be finished with the remodeling if all worked out as planned. _Before long, it will be time to sink or swim_, she told herself.

Theresa approached her house and came to a stop. She leaned forward with her hands on her thighs, trying to catch her breath. She's always depended on running to help her clear her head, but confusion and uncertainty still had a hold on her.

She shook her head. Regardless of what she felt, she couldn't let the day go on without her.

After getting out of the shower, Theresa walked into her closet, trying to decide what she wanted to wear. Something caught her eye. It was a shirt a man's shirt. She took it from the hanger and held it to her. It had been Chuck's favorite, and though Chuck's family had donated most of his clothing to shelters and charitable organizations, Theresa had insisted on keeping this particular shirt. For the longest time, she'd slept in it each night, trying to remember everything about the man she had planned to spend her life with. Chuck had crept into her heart so quietly, but when Theresa realized that she loved him, she knew it was a fierce love.

She swallowed hard and returned the shirt to the hanger before choosing a linen boat-necked shirt and black capris to wear.

Walking down the stairs and through the hall to the kitchen, she looked out the windows toward the ocean. It was so beautiful! She doubted she would ever tire of the sight.

Taking a box of Cheerios from her cupboard, she poured some of the cereal into a bowl, along with skim milk. It was only then that she glanced at her answering machine on the counter. The light was blinking, which surprised her. Few people had her new number.

She pushed the play button, praying that somehow Ethan hadn't discovered how to get in touch with her. Theresa breathed a sigh of relief when she heard her sister's softly accented voice. _"Teresita, it's Paloma. I called over at Miguel's house to talk to you, but he told me you'd moved, and he gave me your new number. I didn't have anything special to say. Just that I was thinking of you and that I hope all is going well for you."_

Theresa smiled. Paloma and Mama were the only people who called her Teresita. How she missed Paloma! They'd spent many years apart while growing up and still lived on opposite sides of the ocean. Paloma had gone to live with Tia Maria in Espana, while the rest of the Lopez-Fitzgerald clan stayed in Harmony. Though the sisters loved each other, in many ways they were still getting to know one another.

Theresa closed her eyes and could picture her sister. Paloma was a couple of inches taller than Theresa, with the same dark hair and tanned complexion. But whereas all the other Lopez-Fitzgerald siblings took after their mother and had brown eyes, Paloma's eyes were a startling green. Pilar had often commented that looking into her youngest daughter's eyes was like looking into her husband's eyes. The shape and color were much like Martin Fitzgerald's.

The last time Theresa had seen Paloma was shortly before what was supposed to be her wedding to Chuck. Paloma had come for a wedding, but had ended up going to a funeral instead. Despite the time they had spent apart, Theresa found Paloma's presence to be a great comfort. _Paloma is so much like Mama. She has Mama's strength of mind and heart something I will never have._

She picked up the phone, dialing Paloma's number in Spain. The line rang, but no one answered. _Later_, she promised herself.

Almost as soon as she placed the cordless phone back on the receiver, the phone rang. The sudden noise jarred Theresa, and she jumped. Picking it up, she answered it, "Paloma?"

"Not last time I checked," came the reply.

"Chad!" Theresa couldn't help but smile when she heard the voice of her friend. She and Chad had always shared an easy rapport. It made her feel wonderful to think that two of her most favorite people in the entire world would soon be married. Theresa had always known that Chad and Whitney would find their way to each other. But just like Luis and Sheridan, one of their greatest obstacles to happiness had been their own stubbornness.

"Yeah. That's more like it," Chad replied on the other end.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Not too much. Just hanging here at the club, gettin' things ready for the lunch crowd."

"Wow! You're certainly getting an early start!"

Theresa heard his voice respond, "Yeah... well, I do what I can. Listen, the reason I was calling is this. I was hopin' you could drop by later today."

"Um, sure. Is there something going on?"

"Nah. Just wanted to talk with you. You've been in town over two weeks, and we still haven't had the chance to really sit down and get reacquainted. You're a hard girl to track down!"

"Well, I have a feeling that you know probably better than anyone else how difficult it is to get a business started. I'm fortunate that I already have a firm foundation from when I was in New York, but still..."

He laughed. "It's unnervin', isn't it?"

"It is!" she agreed.

"Then you can tell me all about it when I see you later."

"You can count on it."

After hanging up, Theresa looked out the window. Why did she get the feeling that Chad was up to something? She shook her head. _Stop being so ridiculous, Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald_!

She absently took a bite of her cereal. It was soggy, but she didn't notice.

* * *

Sheridan Lopez-Fitzgerald smiled as she walked into the Harmony Youth Center. It was something that she looked forward to each day. _What a change from the first time I came here,_ she mused. After being arrested by Luis, she was sentenced to 100 hours of community service at the youth center under his supervision. What had started as her worst nightmare turned into an absolute treat. Sheridan enjoyed spending time with the kids, and she couldn't imagine not being part of the center. Of course, being forced to spend time with Luis had also helped their mutual attraction to blossom into a long-lasting relationship.

Sheridan ambled through the gymnasium, making sure to avoid stepping onto the basketball court where four boys were playing hard. Between a play, they stopped long enough to greet her. "Hey Sheridan!" they said in chorus.

"Hey guys!" She waved as she headed toward the office. She needed to fill out paperwork for a state grant. As much as the youth center benefited the community, funding was always tight. In fact, she was worried about some expenses she knew were coming up. The roof was in desperate need of repair, and some of the ball equipment was getting shabby from use.

Since marrying Luis, Sheridan had all but given up her lifestyle of wealth. She had approached Luis about using money from an old trust account that she never touched to cover the cost, but Luis argued against it. There was always going to be _something_ that they would need, but working hard to accomplish what was needed was more worthwhile, according to her husband. Ethan had even offered to donate money to the youth center, but Luis flatly refused to take Crane money, money he considered to be sullied by the suffering of others.

Sheridan felt the baby kick, and she instinctively touched her round belly. Anticipation consumed her; she could hardly wait to be a mother. All her life, she felt a keen sense of loss at having never known her own mother. And all her life she had dreamed of unconditional, pure love. She'd found the love of her life in Luis, and now she would be able to share that love with their child.

She sat at the desk in the office and opened the middle drawer, looking for the grant papers. Suddenly, she heard footsteps approaching. She looked up, expecting to see one of the kids. Instead, she saw her nephew, Ethan.

"Hi stranger," she said with a smile on her face. "Haven't seen you in a few days."

Ethan did not meet her smile. He looked deathly serious instead. "Sheridan, why didn't you tell me?"

Sheridan's smile faded. "Tell you what, Ethan?"

"About Theresa. You _knew_ she was back in town, and you didn't bother to tell me?" He shook his head in disgust. "I can't believe you would keep something like that from me!"

Sheridan stood and walked to her nephew, placing a hand on his right shoulder. "I'm sorry, Ethan. It wasn't something that I necessarily intended to do."

"But why?"

Sheridan bit her bottom lip, uncertain of how she should respond. "At first, I wasn't even sure what to make of her. The stories that Gwen told me of Theresa as a manipulator just didn't seem to correspond with the young woman I saw. We came to an understanding, and I wanted to let Theresa handle the situation in her own way."

Ethan rubbed the bridge of his nose with his hands. "I didn't mean to sound so harsh, Sheridan. It's just that for the last two weeks I have been trying to convince myself that these reminders of her were just a figment of my imagination. I was actually starting to think I was crazy... but to actually find out that she _has_ been here . . . . ," his voice trailed off.

"What reminders?"

"The cookies. And I thought I caught a glimpse of her from the pier."

Recognition registered in Sheridan's eyes. "Of course! I baked Theresa's cookies the day you came to see me and gave me all of those wonderful presents. I was worried about you when your mood changed so drastically. Now I understand why."

Ethan crossed his arms and began to pace. "The ghosts of Theresa have been in the back of my mind for almost as long as I can remember. I was so certain that if I ever saw her again, I would be able to put those ghosts to rest."

"But you've seen her and nothing's changed?"

He nodded. "Last night." He took in a deep breath. "I hate feeling this way. Gwen deserves better! She deserves a husband who isn't constantly consumed with thoughts of another woman."

Sheridan leaned against the edge of the desk. "Tell me what happened."

"Chad, Whitney, and I went to a movie last night. After it was over, I decided to go for a walk to clear my head. I ended up at the same pier where I thought I had seen Theresa before. I heard footsteps behind me and turned around. There she was."

"Wow. That must have been a surprise," Sheridan responded, covering her mouth.

"To say I was surprised is something of an understatement. She turned to leave, but I stopped her and asked her to stay. She did... for a few minutes."

"Were the two of you able to resolve your issues?"

He cleared his throat. "I'm not sure that we'll _ever_ completely resolve our issues. We have too much of a past, and we both realize that delving into that past would have dire consequences." He clenched his fists in frustration. "Sheridan, I started to feel close to her, and I think she felt it, too. It was as if the wall between us was beginning to crumble. But she pulled away and left."

"Theresa is a smart girl, Ethan. I have no doubt in my mind that Theresa did the best thing she could possibly do by removing herself from the situation. Not only for herself, but for you, as well."

Ethan stared at the ceiling. "She was so beautiful, Sheridan. Yet what struck me even more was this inner strength I could see in her."

"Do you love Gwen?" Sheridan asked suddenly.

His aunt's question snapped Ethan back into reality. Taken aback, he replied, "Of course I do! I always have."

"Then if you love Gwen, you know what you have to do."

"I know. I know. I told myself last night that I can't afford to be around her. I intend to honor my marriage vows, Sheridan."

"I'm glad to hear you say that. So you'll stay away from Theresa?"

"Of course," he replied. _Just as soon as I take care of one last matter_, he told himself. He needed to see her... just one last time.

* * *

Theresa entered Brazen and she could sense Chad's personality in her surroundings. Just as the boutique would be her baby, the club was definitely Chad's labor of love.

"Theresa!" Chad exclaimed when he saw his old friend.

Theresa gave him a quick hug. "This place is wonderful, Chad!" she exclaimed, excitement gleaming in her eyes.

"Glad you think so. Come on over to this corner table and talk to me."

"You sure don't beat around the bush, do you?"

Chad grinned. "Not my style."

Theresa followed him to the table he indicated, and the two sat down. A waitress came to take their drink orders. "On the house," Chad told her.

They both ordered iced tea. Yet when the waitress came back with their drinks, Theresa felt too nervous to drink it. She was worried that whatever Chad wanted to talk about would involve Ethan. Theresa just wasn't sure that she wanted to face questions regarding Ethan.

"Tell me what you've been doin' since you've been back."

"Just the usual. As you know, I found a wonderful place to live. I'm working on establishing a business. I just came from the shop, as a matter of fact. The workmen have accomplished so much!"

"That's great, Theresa. So have you seen Ethan?"

"You sure didn't waste any time," Theresa said wrinkling her nose.

Chad grinned once again. "Not my style."

"I feel like we've had this conversation before."

"And I feel like you're trying to avoid the question I just asked."

Theresa straightened her posture and replied, "I suppose I might as well get this over with. As a matter of fact, I have seen Ethan. I ran into him last night on the pier."

"And?"

"And what? It was no big deal, Chad," Theresa lied. "I didn't feel anything toward him. I don't see how I ever could have!"

"Liar."

Theresa stiffened. "I'm not lying. Really! Ethan is part of my past. Nothing more, nothing less."

Chad shifted his weight forward, leaning on the table. "I'm actually glad to hear you say that. I've been wanting to tell you about something, and I thought that it might be hard, but seeing as how you don't have feelings toward Ethan, this should be no big deal."

"What is it? What are you talking about?"

"It's about the wedding. I asked Ethan to be my best man," Chad replied casually.

Theresa felt her jaw drop. "No! This _can't_ be happening!"

He shrugged. "What's the big deal? I mean, you just told me that you saw Ethan last night and felt nothing. The wedding shouldn't be a problem for you that is, unless you weren't being honest about your feelings."

"You're trying to bait me, Chad Harris, and it isn't going to work," Theresa stated, defiantly crossing her arms.

"Girl, I've already baited you, and it did work. You fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Now, do you mind telling me what's really going on?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied glumly.

"We both know that you do."

"What do you want me to say? Yes, I saw him! It was awkward and brought back tons of old memories. But nothing is going to come from it! I don't plan to see him again."

"You aren't going to drop out of the wedding, are you, Theresa? Whitney would be freaked."

Theresa sighed. "No, I'm not going to do that to her. I will deal with Ethan at the wedding when the time comes, but otherwise, I am steering clear of him."

"We'll see."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that I've seen you and Ethan together. You're like two forces of nature, drawn together. No amount of self-denial or self-restraint can stop that. As you used to always say, it's 'fate.'"

"You're wrong, Chad! I still love Chuck. I don't want to be with anyone else, especially Ethan. Besides, he is a married man."

"Marriages end everyday."

"Yikes! This from a man who is about to get married!"

Chad rolled his eyes. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"Well, it doesn't feel good to have the tables turned on you, does it?"

Chad looked at his friend. Anger was spreading through her features. The seed had been planted in her mind. It was time to back off. "Truce, okay?"

"Fine."

Chad chuckled.

"What?" Theresa snapped.

"Don't look now, but this fella at the bar is totally checking you out."

Theresa turned around and glanced at a young man sitting at the bar, indeed staring at her. He was quite handsome, around her age or perhaps a year or two older. His blond hair looked like it had been kissed by the sun, and his tanned skin seemed to support that theory. His eyes were a startling turquoise color, framed by dark lashes. He was dressed nicely, suggesting that he came from money. Their eyes met for an instant, and Theresa sensed something familiar about him; it was something she couldn't quite put her finger on. He winked at her.

"I told you not to look." She looked away from the man and turned her attention back to Chad.

She sighed. "I need to go, Chad."

"You upset with me?"

She shook her head. "Not really." With that, she left.

* * *

It had taken a few hours, and several strings had to be pulled to find where Theresa lived, but Ethan had managed it. He hated not being completely honest with Sheridan, but he knew that the sooner he found out the information he needed, the sooner he could try to put Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald out of his mind forever.

He first tried ringing the doorbell to her front door. No one answered. He walked around the back of the house and noticed that her car was indeed there. He climbed the steps to her deck and knocked on the door. Still, no one answered.

Did she know he was there? Was she just avoiding him?

Feeling defeated, he walked down the stairs of the deck onto the beach. Looking out at the water, he noticed a figure bobbing in the waves. He squinted his eyes, and realized it was Theresa. She seemed to be struggling.

Ethan felt his heart pound, as the memory of the prom boat came back to him and how Theresa had been a poor swimmer.

"My God! She's drowning!"


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: ** I do not own the _Passions_ characters.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: "Surprises"**

Ethan threw off his shoes and rushed into the water. He'd always been a good swimmer, but he still felt fear clutch his heart. What if he didn't get to Theresa in time? He didn't know what he would do if something happened to her.

Theresa felt herself being pulled from behind to the surface, and it scared her. _What is going on? _her mind screamed. She tried to turn around to see her captor, but strong arms enveloped her and prevented her actions.

Once they had reached the surface, she struggled to break free to no avail. With her survival instincts kicking in, she turned her head slightly and bit hard into her captor's arm.

"Theresa, stop fighting me!" he yelled.

Realization sunk in. _That voice_. "Ethan!"

Ethan released his grip of Theresa slightly, allowing her to turn to face him. "Are you okay?" He couldn't help but notice the anger that flared in her eyes. _Why would she be angry?_ he wondered.

"I _was _okay. What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk to you about something very important, but you didn't answer your door. I just happened to look out into the water, and it's a good thing that I did, because I saw you struggling in the waves." He wiped away a strand of wet hair plastered to her forehead. It was a simple gesture, but also intimate. His voice fell to a whisper, "Theresa, I was so worried about you. If anything ever happened to you . . . ."

Looking into his blue eyes, she saw genuine concern, and her anger began to melt. She swallowed hard as his nearness disoriented her. Why did he have to be so wonderful? "Ethan, nothing's going to happen to me. I promise. I've become a _much_ better swimmer since the night of the prom. Besides, I wasn't in trouble just now. I found the most amazing rock formation under the water, and I just went down to look at it, that's all."

"Oh."

Theresa laughed softly. "I'm sorry you rescued me for nothing. And now your clothes are all wet!"

He hadn't really thought about it, but she was right. How would he ever be able to go home and explain to Gwen that his clothes were wet because he had rushed into the ocean to save Theresa? Somehow he didn't think that Gwen would be very accepting of the situation.

As if knowing what Ethan was thinking, Theresa suggested. "Why don't you come back to my house? I can put those clothes in the washer and dryer, you can take a hot shower, and you'll have a lot less explaining to do when you get home. Besides, you did mention having something important to talk about with me."

Ethan nodded. "Sounds perfect."

The two swam back to shore. Ethan watched as Theresa tilted her head to the side and squeezed the excess water from her long, brown hair. _She has no idea of how beautiful she is, _he thought to himself. _Snap out of it, Crane! You didn't come here to moon over Theresa!_

Feeling a chill from being wet and exposed to the ocean breeze, Theresa took the towel she left on the beach and wrapped it around herself.

Ethan grabbed the shoes he had strewn aside, and followed her up to the deck of her house leaving a trail of water in his wake.

After opening the French doors, Theresa turned back to Ethan. "If you'll wait here, I'll go and get you a towel."

He nodded. "Sure. And thanks."

"No problem," she said absently as she walked into the house.

When she returned with a large, fluffy towel, she was surprised to see he had taken his shirt off and was wringing it, trying to get the water out. She was trying not to stare, but whether she liked it or not, her attraction for him, along with some rather pesky feelings, had never completely gone away.

Averting her gaze, she placed the towel in his hands and allowed him a moment to dry off. "Um, I thought you could take your shower in the guest bathroom. I've put everything you should need in there, and I'll find something you can put on after you get out."

"I appreciate this."

She motioned for him to come inside, and he quickly surveyed his surroundings. The living room was light and airy, just as he imagined it would be. He saw a sofa with plush throw pillows, a Mediterranean style coffee table, and other odds and ends. He also noticed an easel in the corner of the room. _I didn't know that Theresa painted_, he thought to himself.

Suddenly, he saw a ball of fur which seemed to bound across the room to Theresa. She leaned down and picked up the cat. "Serendipity, you are such a spoiled kitty!"

Ethan smiled at the cat's name. "Serendipity?" he asked. He remembered how Theresa always had a strong belief in fate and everything that went along with it.

She stroked the cat's fur. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"How long have you had him?"

Theresa cleared her throat. "About a year and a half. Chuck gave Serendipity to me when he proposed." Her eyes had a faraway look, and Ethan wished he knew what she was thinking.

She put the cat down, and motioned for Ethan to follow her. She led him up the stairs and took him to a room at the end of a hallway. In the room, she had a huge draft table, along with several sketchbooks, which were strewn about the place. She picked up a couple of the books and commented, "I guess you can tell that the place isn't ready for any prolonged guests yet."

"You've only been here for a short time. Quite honestly, I'm amazed at how much work you've managed to accomplish in that short time span."

She offered him a small smile, but he couldn't help but notice that she seemed to be sad. Ethan reached out and took her hand. "Things will get better, Theresa."

She nodded and indicated a door on the far side of the room. "The bathroom is through there. If you'll leave your clothes out here before you get in the shower, I'll go ahead and put them in the washer. Oh, and I'll leave something for you to wear."

Ethan noticed the wall she put up and wanted desperately to tear it down. "Promise me that it won't be something pink and frilly."

She couldn't help but laugh. "Just for that, Ethan Crane, I'm going to have to find the girliest thing imaginable!" she teased.

"Be afraid! Be _very_ afraid!" he laughed.

"That's right, Mr. Man. You are at my mercy!"

With that, she left the room to allow him some privacy.

When Ethan got out of the shower, he found a bathrobe waiting for him. It was plaid and, thankfully, manly. As he put it on, he breathed a sigh of relief that Theresa hadn't found something girly for him to wear. He had a difficult enough time maintaining his dignity around her as it was.

As he left the room, he could hear another shower running. He assumed she, too, was eager to wash off the seawater. He meandered down the stairs and into the living room. Walking around, he saw a number of framed photographs: a Lopez-Fitzgerald family photo from several years ago; a photo of Theresa and Whitney; a photo of Chuck and Theresa, which Ethan recognized from the newspaper article he had seen announcing their engagement; and a photo of a girl Ethan didn't know, who resembled Theresa and the other Lopez-Fitzgerald siblings with the exception that she had startling green eyes.

As he continued around the room, he noticed a shelf with a small stereo. Next to the stereo, he saw an empty Chris Isaak CD case and picked it up. He smiled. "So you're still listening to Chris Isaak? I guess some things never do change."

Memories flooded back.

_Theresa had been having such a hard time since her breakup with Chuck. Ethan hated seeing her so upset, and he felt like personally tracking down the guy and punching him out. Couldn't he see what a wonderful girl Theresa was? Her laughter was infectious! Her enthusiasm, her spirit, her beauty all of it was something that didn't come along everyday. What was wrong with the guy? _

_Ethan still marveled at how Theresa had thrown herself into planning his wedding to Gwen. She tried to hide it, but he knew that at times, it made her think of the love she had lost._

_Today was going to be a day she would never forget. He'd found out the truth of what she'd been hiding from him, and shortly he planned to confront her with the information._

_He heard the front door open and small footsteps, and he knew it was her._

_He crossed his arms when he saw her. "Theresa, I know what you've been hiding. Did you think I wouldn't find out?"_

_Theresa's eyes widened, and she felt like a deer in the headlights. How could he know? Yet he did. It was time to tell the entire truth. "Ethan, I can explain . . . ."_

_"You can explain how today is your birthday and you didn't tell me?"_

_Her tension eased. "Oh. So this is about my birthday?"_

_He laughed. "Of course! What else would it be about?"_

_"Nothing," she replied quickly. "Nothing at all." Thank heavens he didn't know!_

_"Eighteenth birthdays are very special. That's a milestone in a young person's life and should be celebrated."_

_"Not for this young person," Theresa replied glumly. "Mama's working, Luis is protecting your Aunt Sheridan, Miguel is with Charity, and Whit is playing in a tournament. There won't be much celebrating going on today."_

_"That's where you're wrong."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"I mean that I have a surprise for you."_

_Her eyes lit up and she smiled gleefully. "A surprise? Oh, what is it?"_

_"Well, if I told you, it wouldn't be much of a surprise, now would it?" Ethan responded._

_"At least give me a hint, Ethan!"_

_"Nope. No hints. Do you trust me, Theresa?"_

_She earnestly replied, "With all of my heart."_

_"Good. I've packed a bag for you. We're going to the airport."_

_"The airport? Ethan, I can't! I promised Mrs. Crane that I would take care of correspondences for her today," Theresa groaned._

_"Mother's already been taken care of," he assured her. "There's nothing to stand in our way, Theresa."_

_Theresa threw her arms around Ethan's neck. "You are the__** best**__, Ethan Crane!"_

_When the duo arrived at the airport, Crane Industries' private jet was waiting for them. Theresa settled in a plush seat with Ethan next to her. "And you aren't going to tell me where we're going?"_

"_I told you. It's a surprise," he replied. _

_"Well then, let me know how long it will be until we land so that I will know how long I have to pry to secret from you."_

_"My lips are sealed." He looked at his traveling companion, and was once again amazed at how beautiful her brown eyes were. He'd never seen any like them. _

_Their eyes locked, and Theresa felt her mouth go dry. "Maybe I can unseal them for you," she replied._

_The words hung between them, filling the air with tension. Ethan felt a sudden impulse to kiss her, but he shook it off. Theresa was his friend, nothing else. _

_"Um, do you mind if I check my e-mail?" Theresa asked. _

_"No, not at all," he replied, grateful for a chance to get a check on his ridiculous thoughts._

_Theresa took out her laptop and began to look over her messages. Ethan, on the other hand, looked at some legal papers he had brought along. His concentration was shattered when he heard her begin to laugh hysterically. He looked at her and could see tears rolling down her cheeks._

_"Theresa, what is it?" Ethan asked._

_Gasping for air between laughs, Theresa replied, "Whit...forwarded this message. It's...it's so cheesy, it's funny! I would read it to you...but I don't think I can make it through without cracking up!"_

_She turned the laptop so that Ethan could read the screen. His eyes skimmed the text, and he began to understand why Theresa had been so tickled._

**'Only the Crumbs Were Left**

The Pillsbury Doughboy died yesterday of a severe yeast infection and complications from repeated pokes to the belly. He was 71. Doughboy was buried in a lightly greased coffin.

Dozens of celebrities turned out, including Mrs. Butterworth, the California Raisins, Hungry Jack, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies, Captain Crunch, and many others.

The graveside was piled high with flours as longtime friend, Aunt Jemima, delivered the eulogy, describing Doughboy as a man who "never knew how much he was kneaded."

Doughboy rose quickly in show business but his later life was filled with many turnovers. He was not considered a very smart cookie, wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Still, even as a crusty old man, he was a roll model for millions.

Doughboy is survived by his second wife, Play Dough. They have two children and one in the oven.

The funeral was held at 350 degrees for about 20 minutes.'

_By the time Ethan was finished reading, he, too, was laughing hysterically. He knew it was going to be a great day. Theresa always brought so much laughter to his life._

_A short time and many laughs later, the duo's plane landed. _

_"Now will you tell me where we are?" Theresa begged._

_"San Diego."_

_Her eyes grew wide. "Really? I've never been to California! Oh, Ethan, this is wonderful!" She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "What are we going to do here?"_

_"Who is your favorite singer, Theresa?"_

_"You already know that, Ethan. It's Chris Isaak, of course!"_

_He smiled at her and she squealed gleefully. "Ethan, are we going to see Chris Isaak perform?"_

_"We sure are."_

_"Oh, this is amazing! I have been wanting to go to one of his concerts, but he doesn't do much touring at least on the East coast. This is the __**best**__ surprise you could have given me!"_

"I was tempted to try to humble you, but I decided to be merciful. I see you found the robe," Theresa said as she hesitantly walked toward Ethan. His thoughts were interrupted, and he put the CD cover down.

"Well, my pride thanks you," he replied looking over at her. He drew in a breath. She wore a baby blue sleeveless dress, and her long, wet hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She looked simply breathtaking. Nervously, he touched his sleeve. "It's a nice robe."

She walked past him and sat on the couch, pulling a cushion onto her lap. "I bought it for Chuck, but he never had the chance to wear it. I didn't have the heart to throw it out, though." She tossed the cushion aside. "Your clothes are in the dryer now."

"You're a lifesaver," he replied. He would never have known how to operate a washing machine or a dryer.

"No. I'll leave that to you. So what was it you wanted to talk with me about?"

He sat down on the couch next to her and hesitated. "I'm not really sure how to approach this subject with you," he hedged.

"Well, I seriously doubt that matters can get any more awkward between us. Just tell me, Ethan."

Finally, he replied. "It's about my secret, Theresa. Our secret."


	14. Chapter 14

Author's Note: In the summer of 2000 when _Passions_ was still in its early stages, I absolutely adored the relationship between Ethan Crane and Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. I discovered the wonderful world of fanfiction and even had my own fanfiction site, and this story was born through my enthusiasm for this show, this couple, and storytelling. This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, and though there are aspects of the story that I am tempted to change in 2010, I won't because the original (flaws and all) holds a special place in my heart.

I previously posted _The Most Carefully Laid Plans _on my site, Once Upon a Time, as well as on Turtle Run and Coffeerooms. It is no longer in any of those places and hasn't been for quite awhile, though I do still get e-mails from people from time to time wondering where they can find a copy. So in celebration of the tenth anniversary of this story, I decided to post it here.

Obviously, I do not own the _Passions _characters found within the story, though the original characters are my own. Nor am I affiliated in any way with _Passions. _No money is being made from this story. Believe me-if I did control _Passions,_ the show would've gone much differently.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Fourteen: "By Any Other Name"**

Puzzled, Theresa looked at Ethan's expression, trying to understand why he was bringing it up now. "What about our secret?"

"Have you talked to anyone about it?" he asked pointedly.

Hurt shone in her eyes as she spoke. "Do you even have to ask?"

"Unfortunately, yes. I do. This is too important to me."

"You are unbelievable! I told you that night at the cabin that I would never tell anyone, and I meant it! A lot might have changed for us after that night, but I would never betray you in that way."

"Good. That's what I needed to know."

His voice was so firm and businesslike, Theresa almost felt as though she were with a stranger. Tears stung her eyes, and a lump formed in her throat. Standing, she walked to the window, keeping her back turned away from Ethan. She closed her eyes, and the tears spilled down her cheeks. _Who are you?_ she asked silently.

_Theresa walked up the short driveway leading to the Crane cabin. On the drive there, she had debated with herself whether she should even go to the cabin. Ethan might not even be there! And if he was? What if all he needed was a little privacy to deal with whatever was bothering him? _

_Still, Theresa had never seen him so upset. When she had seen the pained look on his face as he rushed out past her in the mansion, she had hurt for him. And from the look on Ivy Crane's face, whatever had happened was serious. Mrs. Crane looked positively stricken, as if she had seen a ghost. Theresa knew she needed to find him and make sure he was alright._

_Her eyes caught sight of Ethan's Mercedes-Benz. He was there. She had guessed his whereabouts correctly. Feeling a chill, she wished she had worn something that day other than her sleeveless dress._

_Gathering her courage, Theresa walked to the door and knocked on it. _

_"Mother, go away!" Theresa heard Ethan shout from inside. "I don't want to see you!"_

_She swallowed hard. "Ethan, it's not your mother. It's...it's Theresa."_

_She waited a moment and heard the door latch unlock. The door swung open, and their eyes met. When Theresa saw Ethan, she was stunned. His eyes were red, swollen; and he looked haunted, as well as disheveled. This was an Ethan she had never seen before. _

_He leaned against the doorframe and spoke wearily, "Theresa, now is not a good time."_

_"I...I had to see you, Ethan. I wasn't sure I'd find you here, but I had to try. I don't know what happened, but I have been so worried about you." Instinctively, she touched his face, willing whatever it was that was troubling him to go away. "When I saw the look on your face as you rushed out of the mansion, my heart froze."_

_His voice was clipped. "Theresa, I appreciate your concern, but this isn't the best place for you to be right now."_

_"Please don't turn me away, Ethan. Whatever it is that is troubling you, let me help." Her voice was soothing, her eyes full of hope and promise._

_"Can you turn back time? Because unless you can do that, you won't be any help to me." Immediately after saying those words, he regretted them. It was as if his words had physically struck her. _

_She swallowed hard, trying to keep her composure. She was determined that she would not let him see her cry. Managing a small smile of reassurance, she replied, "I understand."_

_She turned to leave, but he stopped her. "Don't." Despite how miserable he felt, he knew he would only feel worse if he let Theresa leave upset._

_Ethan stood behind her and placed his hands on her bare shoulders. He had intended it as a friendly gesture, but her nearness was intoxicating to him. Her skin was so smooth, almost like silk. Gently, he ran his fingers down the length of her arms. It sent chills up and down her spine. His hands came to a rest on her waist, and she felt as though his touch would burn her skin. Gingerly, he brushed aside her hair to reveal her long, slender neck. His lips traced her shoulder, then her neck. _

_Her eyes closed, and she was afraid to open them; afraid to find that his kisses, his touches, had only been a dream._

_Stroking her face, Ethan turned Theresa around to face him. She opened her eyes. It wasn't a dream _

_She saw the same fiery expression in his eyes that she had seen the night on the wharf when he first kissed her. He might later have claimed to kissing her because he wanted to comfort her, but Theresa knew that he had kissed her that night because he wanted to kiss her. Just as he wanted to kiss her now._

_"Theresa, you're so beautiful. So good," he whispered huskily._

_His lips found hers, and electricity surged between them. Hungrily, he kissed her, tasted her, savored her. She felt desperation in his kiss as though he was in a free fall with nothing to grab onto. Wrapping her arms around him, she was determined to catch him from that free fall. _

_His kisses became more probing, more demanding. Ethan knew he could easily lose himself in her. He put his arms around her waist, trying to draw her closer. Gently, he teased her lips apart before thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She seemed momentarily surprised, but she recovered and responded. A sigh of pleasure escaped from her. _

_Ethan was jolted back to reality. He pulled away and looked at Theresa. Her lips were swollen, and her chest rose and fell rapidly. She looked at him with sheer wonder and adoration, but he felt as though he had taken advantage of her. _

_"Theresa, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."_

_"Why? Didn't you like kissing me?"_

_"That's not it at all. I just feel like the kind of guy parents warn their daughters about. I'm engaged to Gwen. I have a commitment to honor." He knew he had made matters worse. If only he could have just let her walk away! What was it that captivated him? "Theresa, you're young and innocent. I don't want to take that innocence away from you. Besides, you're still getting over your breakup with Chuck. It's not fair of me to take advantage of that."_

_"Ethan, I told you on the prom boat that I loved you. This isn't about Chuck! Why can't you trust that I know my own heart?"_

_"I do believe you have feelings for me, just as I have feelings for you. But I think you're confusing friendship for something else."_

_"Ethan, the way you kissed me just now is not how friends kiss," Theresa insisted. "We are more than just friends. Maybe you can't admit it yet, but I __**know**__ you love me!"_

_He walked into the cabin, and she followed. He rubbed his forehead, and the expression on his face exhibited so much confusion and hurt. Theresa knew he was tortured by something, and whatever it was, it had nothing to do with her. _

_"I'm not fit to love anyone, Theresa."_

_"Ethan, that's not true! You are one of the best people I have ever known! When we're together, I know that anything in the world is possible. You've brought so much happiness to my life and to the lives of others! How can you say you aren't fit to love anyone?"_

_He laughed caustically. "I'm not as great as you think, Theresa. I don't always do what is right, and I'm not always nice to everyone. I sometimes let my mother talk me into things against my better judgment. I swear on Sundays, work on the Sabbath, and skip confession."_

_Ethan looked at Theresa, and could see the concern in her eyes. "I don't know who I am anymore." He paused. "No, that's not true. The truth is that I am a fraud and have been all my life." He walked to the sofa and sat, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped. _

_Theresa sat next to him and placed her hand on his back. "Ethan, you aren't making any sense."_

_"Who do you think I am, Theresa?"_

_"You're Ethan, the man that I love." Where was this coming from?_

_"Ethan who?"_

_Confused, she replied, "Ethan Crane."_

_"Wrong. I'm Sam Bennett's bastard son!" he spat out. _

_"Wh...what? Why would you say such a thing? Your mother and Sam Bennett barely even know each other!"_

_"All my life, my mother told me that I was conceived in love that my father was the love of her life. But just look at my so-called parents. They can barely stand to be in the same room with one another!"_

_Theresa didn't want to say it, but she agreed with Ethan that it hardly seemed possible for Julian and Ivy Crane to have ever been in love, particularly when she considered the animosity they harbored toward one another. "But what does this have to do with Sam Bennett?" Theresa asked._

_"I was looking for her earlier to discuss some of the wedding plans. She was so lost in her own thoughts, she didn't hear me come into her room, but I heard her. She was looking at a locket, talking to herself." He stood and began to pace. "I believe her words were, 'You and Ethan can never find out the truth, Sam. You'll never know that Ethan is your son.'"_

_Theresa moved to his side and touched his arm. "Ethan, are you certain that you heard her correctly? Perhaps you just misunderstood."_

_"No. There was no misunderstanding. When she realized that I had heard what she'd said, the look of horror on her face told me everything that she had just said was true. I demanded an explanation. Of course, she tried to deny it, but I wouldn't let her. I just can't believe she's lied to me all of my life!"_

_"But how could this be possible?"_

_"She told me a few things, but I'm not sure how seriously I should take her. Apparently, my mother and Sam Bennett were lovers before my mother married my father. My grandfather was governor and would never have approved of their relationship, so she kept the relationship a secret. _

_"My father can I even call him that? and mother's marriage was arranged, but Mother didn't realize that Julian merely saw the union as a business merger until she had already married him. On her wedding night, she ran away from my father and ran straight into Sam Bennett's arms. Nine months later, I was born." _

_"She told you all of this?"_

_Ethan nodded. "But only because she didn't have any choice. All my life, people have tried to deceive and use me because of my family. I just never considered the possibility that my own mother...," his voice trailed off._

_Theresa put her arms around him and rested her head against his chest. "I don't have any brilliant solutions for what you're going through. I don't know everything about this situation, and neither do you. But one thing I do know is that a person's last name is not the mark of a man. You are still Ethan, regardless of whether Julian Crane is your father!"_

_"I wish it were that simple, Theresa. I just don't know what to believe in anymore."_

_Theresa looked up at Ethan, meeting his gaze with her own. "I do. I believe in you, Ethan. I always have, and I always will."_

_He lightly traced the outline of her cheeks. "You are the only real thing in my life. I know you would never lie to me."_

_Theresa felt the color rise to her cheeks as thoughts raced through her mind. _He trusts me so completely. If he ever were to find out the truth about Chuck, he'd hate me forever!_ She felt overwhelmed by guilt._

_"Ethan, I know you feel betrayed by your mother, but you must know that she loves you very much."_

_He frowned. "She has a funny way of showing it."_

_"What is the old adage? 'We hurt the people we care about the most.' It's...it's no excuse for a person's actions, but her reasons for keeping this secret for so long must have been good ones."_

_"The question is: what should I do about what I've learned? Do I confront Sam Bennett, and in doing so expose my mother to his anger, as well as the wrath of Father and Grandfather? And what about Chief Bennett and his family? He's a married man with children. How would they react to this? I can't just show up at Sam Bennett's door and say, 'It's a boy!'"_

_"Ethan, you don't have to make a decision now. Give yourself some time to take everything in. Please talk to your mother and listen to what she has to say."_

_"You have to promise me something, Theresa."_

_"Anything, Ethan."_

_"That you won't speak of this to anyone. At least, not until I know how everything is going to play out."_

_She nodded. "I promise."_

_"Thank you," he replied. "I think I'll go for a walk. Will you be here when I return?"_

_"If you want me to be," Theresa replied._

_"I do."_

_Theresa squeezed his hand. "Then I will be."_

_She watched him leave, and Theresa sank down onto the sofa. Poor Ethan! How he must be feeling now! Theresa swallowed hard. How would the Hotchkisses react to the news? Would they even want the wedding to proceed? And Julian...he was the only father Ethan had ever known. Theresa knew their bond was not a strong one; Ethan had so much as told her so. Yet Ethan had always desperately wanted his acceptance. Could their relationship withstand such a revelation? _

_Her cell phone rang and interrupted her thoughts. She took it from her purse, and answered it. "Hello?"_

_"Mi hija, where are you?" Pilar Lopez-Fitzgerald asked from the other end. _

_"I can't tell you, Mama. Just know that I'm with Ethan and that I am safe," Theresa responded._

_"Teresita, there are some things happening with the Cranes right now. I want you to leave."_

_Theresa frowned. "Mama, I know all about it, and I can't leave Ethan. He needs me!"_

_"No, Theresa. You are only going to bring sorrow upon yourself and Ethan."_

_"No, I won't, Mama! Listen, I need to go."_

_"Theresa, wait," Pilar said, but Theresa had already hung up and turned off her cell phone._

_Theresa felt guilty for practically hanging up on her mother, but she just knew that Pilar was wrong about her and Ethan. He would realize his feelings for her, and then they would be together forever. _

_She stood and walked to the kitchen, wondering if Ethan had eaten anything. She scoured the cupboards and refrigerator and found everything she needed to make quesadillas. By the time Ethan returned from his walk, he found Theresa setting the table for two._

_"Theresa, I'm not . . ."_

_She cut him off. "No arguments. You need to eat and keep up your strength. Besides, if you don't eat this, the little men might come tonight."_

_"The little men?"_

_She smiled. "Yes, the little men!" _

_He couldn't help but smile in return. She talked about 'the little men' as if they were the most natural things in the world. "When you say 'little men,' are you talking about aliens, as in little green men...or are you talking about Tabitha Lennox's doll, which my... father... swears came to life on the prom boat?"_

_"Oh, you poor, deprived guy! I'm talking about leprechauns! Every good Irishman and Irishwoman knows about them. Grandmother Aislinne Fitzgerald used to tell Luis, Antonio, Paloma, Miguel, and me all kinds of stories. You see, leprechauns are men, no more than three feet tall, who appear old. A leprechaun is half-fairy/half-evil spirit, so by nature, he's a mischief maker."_

_"And what kind of mischief might he make?"_

_"Oh, all manner of things! It might be something simple like preventing a pot of water from boiling. Or he might move something of yours, and when you go to where you last left it, it's gone. I happen to know for a fact that many a pair of eyeglasses have been lost that way."_

_"And don't tell me; these little men also happen to love quesadillas," Ethan said playfully._

_"Ah! You're very astute!" Theresa replied laughing. "So you see...you don't have much of a choice in the matter. You're just going to have to eat."_

_Ethan shook his head. "You're good at this."_

_"I know, and don't you forget it!"_

_The meal passed uneventfully as Theresa shared more of Aislinne Fitzgerald's stories with Ethan. He couldn't even fathom having grandparents like Theresa's...the type of grandparents who doted love and attention on their grandchildren. With Alistair Crane, the extent of Ethan's interaction with him had been about Ethan's obligations as the Crane heir. Grandfather Alistair had paid Ethan little attention when he was a child. In fact, it was only as he grew older that Alistair found him the least bit interesting._

_"Theresa, the quesadillas were delicious," Ethan said as he was finishing up. _

_"Mama has taught me everything I know about cooking, from quesadillas to cocoa."_

_"Pilar is a good person, an honest person." The memories of what had transpired that day were creeping back into Ethan's mind. He wanted so desperately to forget._

_As though she were reading his mind, Theresa suggested, "Why don't we start a fire? It is, after all, starting to get chilly outside. Then we could play a game."_

_"A game, huh? Seems as though last time I played a game with you, I had to tell you my most embarrassing moment."_

_"Well, we won't even talk about being embarrassed. I am never going to sing Carpenter's music again. I'm just lucky you didn't make me sing a verse of a Neil Diamond song! Nope. This game is totally different. Whitney's sister, Simone, taught it to me, and it's more of a psychological analysis."_

_Ethan groaned. "I'm not sure I like the sound of that!"_

_"Come on! It will be fun, and it will tell you a lot about yourself. I know when I did it, I learned things about myself."_

_"Oh, I think I've learned enough about myself for one day," he said as he began to build a fire._

_"Just trust me, Ethan."_

_Finally, he agreed. _

_After stoking the fire, Ethan and Theresa sat on the floor, leaning against the sofa, and looking at the flames._

_"Ok, Ethan. I'm going to ask you a few questions, and I want you to tell me first thing that pops into your mind. Imagine that you are about to go into the woods. You need to take an animal with you. What animal would it be and what does it look like?"_

_"Aren't there plenty of animals in the woods already?"_

_"Stop being contrary, and just answer the question!" Theresa insisted._

_"Let's see...an animal. I think I would take a dog; an Australian shepherd, perhaps."_

_Theresa nodded. "Ah...makes sense. The animal you take into the woods represents how you look at yourself. Dogs are renowned for being loyal animals, so I'm not surprised."_

_"You think I'm loyal?" Ethan asked. His mind drifted toward Gwen. He didn't feel like a loyal fiancé when he was around Theresa. She brought out a different side to him, a side that wanted more than the life that was always expected for him._

_"Of course! Now you're in the woods, walking with the dog. Suddenly, you come across a key. What does it look like?"_

_"I'm not quite sure what a key is doing in the woods, but I'll go along. It is a hotel key, one that is swiped like a credit card. Yet on the key is a picture of an old-fashioned key, the type that is commonly known as a skeleton key."_

_Theresa furrowed her brow. _

_"What does it mean?"_

_"The key represents a person's hopes and dreams. It sounds as though you are trying to be progressive and do things your own way; yet tradition is extremely important to you, as well."_

_Ethan shuddered and realized that Theresa had made a correct call. "You can tell all of that based on what a key looks like?"_

_Theresa didn't respond. She knew she'd struck a nerve, and that part of the reason he felt torn between his own desires and what was expected of him was because of her._

_"As you're walking along on the path, you come upon a bear blocking your path. What do you do?"_

_"Feed it peanut butter," he quipped._

_"What?"_

_"You heard me. I would feed it peanut butter. That way, the peanut butter would stick to the roof of the bear's mouth, making him feel as though he needed something to drink, and he would leave me alone."_

_Theresa laughed. "That has to be the strangest answer I've ever heard!"_

_"Well, what does the bear represent?"_

_"How you deal with problems. It sounds as though you analyze your situations carefully before taking action."_

_Ethan nodded. _

_"Next you come to a body of water. Describe it and how you plan to cross it."_

_"Actually, it's not a body of water anymore. It's a dried up river, and all I have to do is walk across," he said._

_Theresa felt her cheeks grow hot. She desperately wished she hadn't asked him that question. She fell silent._

_"Aren't you going to tell me what the water represents?"_

_"Nope."_

_"Come on, Theresa. Tell me."_

_"It represents your...no, I just can't!" She felt miserably embarrassed. "I shouldn't have even asked that one!"_

_"But you did, so spill it."_

_"It... it represents your...I can't believe I'm saying this...your sex life."_

_"Moving right along," Ethan said laughing._

_"Well, you're the one who insisted! Ok. I just have one more question. I want you to imagine that you come to a wall, and you can't see around it or over it. What is behind that wall?"_

_"More woods."_

_Theresa stood and walked closer to the fire. Could fate be so cruel? she wondered. _

_Ethan was perplexed when he saw her reaction. Something about his answer had bothered her. He, too, stood and approached her. "Theresa, what is it? What does the wall represent?"_

_She looked up at him, brown eyes shimmering with tears. "Your future," she whispered._

_He touched her face. "Theresa, none of us knows what our future will hold. But there is one thing that I do know. I want you to be part of my future."_

_"What did you say, Ethan?"_

_"I don't want to ever be without you. I haven't been completely honest about my feelings, and I think it's time for you to know the entire truth..."_

"Theresa, do you remember what you told me that day at the cabin?" Ethan asked.

Theresa wiped the tears away and turned around to face him. Shrugging, she replied, "I'm sure I said a lot of things that day. Nothing distinctive comes to mind." She knew her words were dishonest, but she was to the point that she didn't care anymore. She couldn't allow the feelings to resurface the feelings she had tried so long to bury.

"You told me that you believed in me," Ethan replied. "Do you still believe in me?"

"None of that matters anymore." She replied quickly. She hesitated before adding, "Ethan, I don't want to see you again. Now that you know I've never told your secret and never will, there is nothing for us to say to one another."

"Perhaps you're right," he agreed.

She walked to the laundry room and took his clothes from the dryer. After she gave Ethan his clothes back, he went upstairs and changed.

When he returned, Theresa stood, waiting at the door. "Goodbye, Ethan."

"Goodbye, Theresa," he said. He turned to leave, but stopped. His movement caught Theresa by surprise.

Their eyes met for an instant, and Ethan leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. It was a gesture so simple, yet so complicated.

He opened the door and left. Theresa followed Ethan with her eyes. She could still feel his kiss on her cheek, and she touched the place where his lips had been.

Softly, she whispered, "I still believe in you."


	15. Chapter 15

Author's Note: In the summer of 2000 when _Passions_ was still in its early stages, I absolutely adored the relationship between Ethan Crane and Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. I discovered the wonderful world of fanfiction and even had my own fanfiction site, and this story was born through my enthusiasm for this show, this couple, and storytelling. This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, and though there are aspects of the story that I am tempted to change in 2010, I won't because the original (flaws and all) holds a special place in my heart.

I previously posted _The Most Carefully Laid Plans _on my site, Once Upon a Time, as well as on Turtle Run and Coffeerooms. It is no longer in any of those places and hasn't been for quite awhile, though I do still get e-mails from people from time to time wondering where they can find a copy. So in celebration of the tenth anniversary of this story, I decided to post it here.

Obviously, I do not own the _Passions _characters found within the story, though the original characters are my own. Nor am I affiliated in any way with _Passions. _No money is being made from this story. Believe me-if I did control _Passions,_ the show would've gone much differently.

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen: "What Goes Around . . . ."**

The drive home seemed inordinately long. _Home._ It felt strange to call it that for it certainly didn't feel like home. Ethan wasn't sure what home was anymore.

He fiddled with the radio, but nothing on it seemed to interest him. Finally, he turned his audio system to compact disc mode. As he selected a CD to listen to, he thought of Chad. Chad was always telling him that music could speak when and where words couldn't.

Ethan found a Chris Isaak CD; one Theresa had given to him years ago. Gwen didn't like the music, and had more than once threatened to replace it with something else. "It's too melancholy!" Yet the CD stayed in the disc changer, sometimes forgotten. But tonight...tonight the music spoke to Ethan.

_**'Over where the rainbow meets the darkened sky,**_  
_**I pretended that there was hope for you and I.**_  
_**Now too late I guess the real world I find.**_  
_**You changed your mind.**_  
_**You changed your mind.'**_

"Have I been fooling myself all this time?" Ethan asked himself aloud. Theresa's reaction to him earlier had been cold, at best. Intellectually, he knew that she was right. They shouldn't see each other again. Yet to hear her say those words...

_**'Over where tomorrow chases clouds away,**_  
_**I pretended that somehow you'd really stay.**_  
_**Now I'm left here with those dreams you tossed away.**_  
_**You changed your mind.**_  
_**You changed your mind.'**_

Ethan was angry with himself. He knew he should have handled the situation differently. He was even starting to think that the old adage was true...what goes around comes around. Years ago, he had cut Theresa out of his life and had regretted it since. Now it was his turn to be cut out. He had just never expected that she would still have such a hold over him.

_**'Over where the rainbow meets the darkened sky,**_  
_**I believed that we would never say goodbye.**_  
_**Now I'm standing here alone, too late to cry.**_  
_**You changed your mind.  
You changed your mind.**_  
_**You changed your mind.**_  
_**You changed your mind.'**_

He had dared to hope. For what...he wasn't sure. Yet hope _had_ filled his heart, his being. The only thing he understood with any certainty was that his hope had no right to exist.

Ethan continued to listen to Chris Isaak's song of lost love and mused, "You don't happen to know Resa, do you Chris?"

When Ethan entered the Crane Mansion, his mother was in the living room drinking tea. "Ethan, darling, you're home!" Ivy exclaimed when she saw her son.

"Hello, Mother," Ethan responded. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, as was their custom. "How has your day been?"

Ivy touched her perfectly coifed blond hair and sighed. "Oh, it's been one disaster after another! I'm surprised I've managed to remain unscathed."

Concern showed on Ethan's expression. "What do you mean? What happened?"

Ivy waved her hand. "Oh, it's nothing to be concerned about! I just had to let Melody go. The poor girl just wasn't cut out for the job."

Ethan shook his head. "Mother, it's been less than two weeks!"

"I know. I know," she replied. "But I was so mortified at what she did today. Emma Featherstone and her husband, Thomas, stopped by today for brunch. . . . "

Ethan smiled knowingly. So it had to do with Mr. and Mrs. Featherstone. Now he understood.

". . . . and when I introduced Melody to Emma, Melody told Emma how handsome she thought her 'son,' Thomas, was and wondered if Emma would mind arranging a date for them. It isn't often that I want to blend into the wallpaper, but today . . . . .," Ivy's voice trailed off.

Ethan was reminded of another one of Ivy's personal secretaries who made a similar, though not so blatant, mistake.

_"Theresa, thank you for agreeing to come to this party with me," Ethan said. "With Gwen being out of town, I wasn't looking forward to coming by myself."_

_"I am glad to help," Theresa replied. _

_Ethan smiled at Theresa. She had been his mother's personal secretary for a few months, and Ivy Crane had nothing but positive comments to make about Theresa. According to his mother, Theresa was efficient and energetic. If she saw something that needed to be done, she took the initiative. _

_Ethan had to agree with his mother's assessment, though at one point he would have been inclined to think badly of Theresa. He still felt foolish for accusing her of being his stalker. Now that he had come to know her better, he considered her a friend. A good friend, in fact. _

_"Would you like to dance?" he asked._

_"I would love to," she replied._

_She took his arm, and he led her to the floor for a spirited waltz. Before long, Theresa was giddy with excitement as she took in all the sights and sounds around her. She caught sight of a woman, and began to giggle. She was an older woman who looked dignified in all ways, except one._

_"Ethan, is it just me, or does that woman have_ pink _hair?"_

_"It must be Mrs. Featherstone. She's notorious for her unnatural appearance."_

_"Don't people find it odd?" she asked._

_Ethan smiled, thinking of how ridiculous people in his social circle sometimes acted. "Probably, but she has so many connections, no one would dare tell her."_

_"Yes, she does seem to hold a captive audience." Theresa commented. She looked a little more closely at Mrs. Featherstone and those surrounding her. "Hhmm. Except for one person. I notice that her son doesn't seem too interested in what she's saying."_

_Ethan glanced in Mrs. Featherstone's direction. "Are you talking about the young man standing to her right?"_

_She nodded._

_"Theresa, that's her husband, not her son."_

_"Oh, dear!" Theresa's eyes grew wide in surprise, and Ethan couldn't help but chuckle._

_"Yes. Fourth husband, in fact. From what I understand, she chooses a younger one each time, and she forces her husbands to take her last name."_

_She giggled. "What a novel idea- the name part, I mean. But when I get married, it's going to be to the perfect man, and it's going to be for life."_

"Well, Mother, you do have to admit that Mrs. Featherstone is a rather unconventional woman. I'm sure it was an honest mistake."

"It's one thing for Melody to mistake Thomas as Emma's son, but quite a different matter to be so impudent as to ask Emma to 'fix them up,' as she called it." Ivy cringed. "How I miss Theresa! She was so efficient...and charming. Yet I'm pleased that her fashion career is working out so well for her. New York is such an exciting place to live!"

Ethan hesitated. Should he tell his mother? "Actually, Theresa is back in Harmony."

Ivy's eyes lit up. "Is she really?"

"Yes. I ran into her earlier today, as a matter of fact."

"Sheridan must have known. And she didn't even mention it!" Ivy said.

"You don't often see Sheridan, though. It doesn't surprise me that she didn't mention it to you." _Though it is a surprise that she didn't mention it to me_, Ethan thought.

Ivy seemed reflective. "The death of Theresa's fiancé was such a tragedy. I'm not sure a person can ever completely get over his or her first love." Ivy absently fingered the locket she still wore around her neck.

Ethan's mind raced. His mother still didn't know everything that had transpired between Theresa and himself. Ivy thought that Theresa's love had been one-sided. "Yes, it was a tragedy." Ethan had only ever wanted Theresa's happiness.

Ivy's voice piped in and interrupted his thoughts. "Do you think she would consider coming back as my personal secretary?"

Ethan looked at his mother with amusement. "I doubt it. From what I understand, Theresa plans to open her own boutique and continue with her label."

"Well, good for her!" Ivy exclaimed. "I need to have her over for lunch soon. I would love to hear how she is getting on. Plus I wouldn't mind getting a sneak peek at her line."

Ethan opened his mouth to protest, but decided against it. He knew his mother would ask questions that he wasn't prepared to answer.

Ivy clasped her hands together, "I really look forward to seeing Theresa."

"What did you just say?" a voice from the far end of the room asked.

Ethan looked around and saw his wife.

Ivy smiled. "Just that I look forward to seeing Theresa. Ethan was just telling me that she's back in town."

Gwen forced a smile. "Ethan, _dear_, could I please speak with you upstairs?"

_Damn! _"Of course, darling." He turned to his mother. "We'll talk more later."

Ivy watched her son and daughter-in-law walk up the stairs. She couldn't help but notice Gwen's body language. When Gwen put her hands on her hips, it was never a good sign.

"What did I say?" Ivy asked.

* * *

"Ethan, what the _hell _is going on?" Gwen demanded. "Why didn't you tell me Theresa is in town?" Tears brimmed in her brown eyes.

"Gwen, I only just found out," Ethan replied, taking Gwen's hands.

"Have you seen her, Ethan?"

Should he tell her? Ethan hesitated, but finally answered. "Yes. Earlier today. I was walking on the beach and ran into her." It was better not to tell Gwen he had sought Theresa out. She wouldn't understand that he had to know where Theresa stood with their secret. Hell, Gwen didn't even know that there _was_ a secret.

"Unbelievable! How could you even speak to her?" Gwen's jaw clenched and she pulled away from her husband. "So what did she do? Did she say she came back for you?"

"Hardly. Harmony is where her friends and family live, Gwen. She wanted to come home."

Gwen grunted. "She has family in Spain. Why couldn't she go there?"

"We can't dictate where she lives."

"Oh, just watch me!" Gwen started pacing frantically. "God! I am going to rip her hair out!"

"Gwen, I want you to calm down. Theresa has moved on with her life, and it's time for you to do the same."

"The way _you've_ moved on, Ethan?" Gwen asked sarcastically. "I don't think so." With that, she stormed out of the room and out of the house.

* * *

"Mother, it was just so terrible!" Gwen cried. When she'd left the Crane Mansion, she had headed straight for her parents' estate. She was certain her mother would know exactly what to do.

Rebecca Hotchkiss handed her daughter a lace handkerchief. "Enough tears have been shed, Gwen. You accomplish nothing this way." Her voice was crisp, calm.

"What do you mean?" Gwen asked.

"Look at what you've managed to do. By running from Ethan, you have shown yourself to be an insecure, highly overwrought woman. No man wants to be around a woman like that."

Gwen frowned. "How am I supposed to react? Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald is back in Harmony, and if she and Ethan ever discover what we did . . . . I don't even want to think about what might happen."

"They won't find out if you will gain control of your senses. Honestly, Gwen, I thought you were smarter than that."

"I am smart, Mother. That's why I'm worried," Gwen snapped.

"Gwen, dear, you're just to have to grab the bull by the horns, as it were." Rebecca grimaced at her own plebeian analogy. "You have something that Theresa doesn't have."

"What's that?"

"Isn't it obvious? You have Ethan's wedding ring on your finger. Use that to your advantage."

"What are you suggesting?"

"Have a child," Rebecca urged. "Nothing will cement the bond between you and Ethan the way a child could. At the very least, as the mother of the Crane heir, you will never be left out in the cold."

Gwen swallowed hard. "Ethan and I have talked about the possibility, but he wants to wait. I just don't think he is ready to have children yet."

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Please, Gwen! No one is ever _really_ ready for the reality of having children. My suggestion to you is that you should simply take the choice out of his hands."

Gwen rubbed her eyes. Could her mother be right?


	16. Chapter 16

Author's Note: In the summer of 2000 when _Passions_ was still in its early stages, I absolutely adored the relationship between Ethan Crane and Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. I discovered the wonderful world of fanfiction and even had my own fanfiction site, and this story was born through my enthusiasm for this show, this couple, and storytelling. This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, and though there are aspects of the story that I am tempted to change in 2010, I won't because the original (flaws and all) holds a special place in my heart.

I previously posted _The Most Carefully Laid Plans _on my site, Once Upon a Time, as well as on Turtle Run and Coffeerooms. It is no longer in any of those places and hasn't been for quite awhile, though I do still get e-mails from people from time to time wondering where they can find a copy. So in celebration of the tenth anniversary of this story, I decided to post it here.

Obviously, I do not own the _Passions _characters found within the story, though the original characters are my own. Nor am I affiliated in any way with _Passions. _No money is being made from this story. Believe me-if I did control _Passions,_ the show would've gone much differently.

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: "Speak of the Devil"**

_"I still believe in you."_

Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald opened her eyes, sunlight washing into her room. She squinted, unprepared for the strong light. _I must have slept late_, she realized. Usually, she was up before the sun had a chance to completely rise. It was a habit she had formed in New York City. Although it was a city that never completely slept, once the hustle began during the work day, it was nearly impossible to sleep late. Besides, there was always so much to do.

Theresa groaned. It was 9:00 a.m. She felt as though she hadn't had any sleep at all. Ethan's visit played through her mind all night long in different incarnations. Yet one thing remained the same in each of them. She had believed in him. _But why couldn't you believe in me, Ethan?_

Suddenly, Theresa felt something touch her leg. Instinctively, she jerked. Looking down at the foot of the bed, she saw that Serendipity had jumped up on her. "Silly kitty! You know you aren't allowed on the furniture!" As if understanding her words, Serendipity jumped off the bed.

Theresa sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She hated getting a late start on her day. She stood and stretched. A nice run would do her good.

She walked into her bathroom, pulled back her hair, washed her face, and brushed her teeth. Slipping out of her nightgown, she found a sports bra and running shorts in her chest of drawers to put on. Serendipity rubbed against her legs and looked up at Theresa expectantly. "I haven't forgotten," Theresa promised before grabbing her socks and shoes and heading down the stairs.

She took the cat into the utility room and gave it fresh food and water. Serendipity purred appreciatively.

Theresa took a quick sip of water to get the toothpaste taste out of her mouth before walking out the door. Once on her deck, she did some warm-up stretches before beginning to run down the beach.

Taking in the sights and sounds around her, she had run a mile before she even realized it. Her morning run had become her time to think and reflect. It helped her to clear her mind more than anything else she did.

After running a few more minutes, she heard another runner approaching her quickly from behind. Yet instead of passing her, the runner fell into step with her.

"I thought that was you," the man said. "You're a hard woman to catch up with."

Theresa glanced over at him and his turquoise colored eyes met her brown ones. She knew she recognized him from somewhere, but from where she wasn't entirely certain. "How do I know you?"

"Oh, you injure me! We saw each other at Brazen. You were with a friend. Our eyes met, and I could feel the connection between us."

"The _connection_? Tell me, does that line really work with women?" Theresa asked her blond companion.

"Why don't you tell me over dinner tonight?" he suggested with a smile.

Theresa laughed. "I don't think so! You are a complete stranger! We don't even know each others' names."

"That's easily solvable. I'm Drew Winthrop. And you are...?"

"Not sure I want to tell you my name," Theresa responded.

"And here I thought that you didn't strike me as the shy type," Drew teased. "Will you at least tell me your friend's name so that I might inquire about your identity from him?"

"Your persistence is admirable, Mr. Winthrop, but even Satan himself is persistent," Theresa responded glibly.

"Ouch. That's a back-handed compliment if I ever heard one," Drew laughed. "If you won't go out with me, at least leave me with a consolation prize."

"I'm afraid to ask."

"Leave me with your name," he insisted. "It would save me a lot of trouble."

She frowned.

"Come on," he urged. "Just a name."

Finally, she responded crisply, "Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald." And with that, Theresa pressed on, picking up her pace.

Drew stopped and watched the young woman as her running put distance between them. He smiled to himself. "So _you're_ Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. Nice to finally meet you."

* * *

Theresa opened the oven door, and the aroma of chocolate chip cookies wafted through the kitchen. "I think these are done," she said aloud. She often talked to herself aloud when she was alone. She figured that just so long as she didn't have an entire conversation with herself, it was perfectly acceptable and normal.

"Besides, you're not telling anybody what I say, are you, Serendipity?" she called out to her cat. Last time she'd seen Serendipity, the feline was basking in the sunlight pouring through the windows in the living room.

With an egg turner, Theresa removed the cookies from the baking sheet and placed them on a plate. When she was finished, she spooned more cookie dough onto the sheet and returned it to the oven.

"Just one more batch," she said.

She was planning to go over to the youth center to see Sheridan and to take some cookies to the kids there. She also wanted to take some to the carpenters who had been working so diligently on the interior renovations for her boutique. _A little sweetness goes a long way_, her mother used to always tell her.

When the last cookies finished baking, Theresa packed them up and cleaned her kitchen. It was her least favorite part of cooking, but she hated a messy kitchen even worse.

As Theresa entered the Harmony Youth Center, she was greeted by Beth Watson Langford. Theresa had known her for almost as long as she could remember. Beth and Luis had once been close. In fact, there was a time when Theresa thought the two of them might even get married someday, but now Luis was married to Sheridan, and Beth was married to Troy Langford.

"Theresa, it's so good to see you! Sheridan told me you were back in town!" Beth said giving Theresa a hug.

"It's wonderful to see you, too, Beth. It's been so long!" Theresa exclaimed gleefully.

"Let me look at you," Beth said stepping back. "Is it possible that you're even more beautiful than I remember?"

Theresa felt a blush come to her cheeks. Once upon a time, she had loved for people to notice her appearance. Yet now, it was more of a hindrance, as exemplified by her meeting with Drew Winthrop earlier that day.

"I'm sorry!" Beth laughed. "I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"No, it's nothing. You're fine," Theresa replied waving her free hand.

Beth spotted the plastic container Theresa carried. "What do you have there?" she asked.

"Just some chocolate chip cookies. I thought the kids might enjoy them."

"That's awfully thoughtful of you, Theresa. I know the kids will love them. I've had your cookies, remember?" Beth replied.

Theresa smiled. "Yes, I do remember. You don't happen to know if Sheridan is around here somewhere, do you? She had mentioned to me a few days ago that the center needs a new roof and equipment. I think I might be able to help with that."

"Actually, Sheridan has gone home for the day. Morning sickness hasn't been confined to just the morning for her. I can relate to that! When I was expecting Shelley, nausea would strike at all hours of the day."

"I hope she'll be alright," Theresa replied.

"Oh, I'm sure she will," Beth said. "So, did you say something about wanting to help with the youth center?"

"Yes, I did."

"Believe it or not, someone has already beaten you to the punch."

Surprised, Theresa asked, "Who?"

"A man who says he prefers for his donation to remain anonymous. But I don't think it will hurt anything if you take a little peek. He did, after all, tell me his name, and it has a nice ring to it." Beth gently pulled on Theresa's arm and led her to the hallway. From there, they could see into the office where the door was slightly ajar. The mysterious donor was sitting in a chair, filling out forms.

Immediately, Theresa recognized him. "I don't believe it."

Beth smiled. "I've got to tell you if I weren't a happily married woman, I would pursue him. He's quite handsome, isn't he? I've always preferred men with dark hair and eyes, but the man is positively striking. And there's something about him...he just exudes sexuality."

"Beth!" Theresa exclaimed. She had never heard her friend speak that way.

"Theresa, I'm married. Not dead," Beth responded.

Suddenly, the man looked up at the two women and winked.

Theresa turned around. "_Mierte!_" she cursed. She'd already had her dose of Drew Winthrop for the day. She wasn't sure she was ready to go a second round with him, but she had the distinct impression that the choice was out of her hands.

Drew approached Theresa and Beth with a roguish smile on his face. "Are you following me, Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald?" he asked.

"Don't flatter yourself," she replied coolly. Though she knew he was teasing her, she didn't appreciate the arrogance of the man. It was as if was used to women flocking to him, coddling him. Theresa had never had much use for playboys.

"The two of you know each other?" Beth asked.

"We've met," Theresa said to her friend.

"You've been holding out on me!"

Theresa's eyes narrowed. "Hardly," she replied to Beth. She turned her attention to Drew. "Quite honestly, I'm surprised to find you here. You don't particularly strike me as the charitable type."

He raised an eyebrow. "Things aren't always what they seem," he replied cryptically.

Before Theresa could ask Drew what he'd meant, Jamaal, one of the regulars from the youth center approached the group with a basketball in his hand. "Drew, man! Are you coming?"

"Just give me a minute to get changed, and I'll meet you on court," Drew replied to the boy.

Theresa was intrigued. "Who are you, Drew Winthrop?"

"Have dinner with me tonight and find out," he replied.

"Not tonight. I have other plans."

"Ah...you're softening," he grinned. "Tomorrow night then."

Theresa hesitated. She still didn't like him, but she _was_ curious. Why did he seem so familiar to her? "Fine. I'll meet you at Brazen at 7:30."

"Tomorrow night, then." With that, Drew left Theresa and Beth.

Beth looked at Theresa and crossed her arms. "What was all of that about, Theresa?"

"It's a long story," Theresa replied, worry starting to etch on her features. She rubbed her forehead. _What have I done?_

_

* * *

_

Theresa looked around what would soon be her boutique. Several men were in the process of painting the walls, while others were working on detailing a small staircase which led to the back office.

"You and your men are doing such a wonderful job, Mr. Fowler!" Theresa exclaimed, looking at the back of the store.

"I'm glad you're pleased, Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald. And thank you for the cookies, by the way," Dave Fowler replied.

"Oh, it was my pleasure," Theresa said.

"If you'll excuse me."

"Of course," Theresa replied. She stood, mesmerized by all they were doing. Clasping her hands, she smiled gleefully. "This is going to be_ perfect_!"

A voice from behind spoke. "I wouldn't get too comfortable if _I _were you, Theresa."

Theresa turned around and faced Gwen Hotchkiss Crane.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I do not own _Passions _or its characters.

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen: "A Private Little War"**

A voice from behind spoke. "I wouldn't get too comfortable if _I _were you, Theresa."

Theresa turned around and faced Gwen Hotchkiss Crane. "Gwen!" Theresa uttered. _What is she doing here?_

"No, no, no," Gwen said, a peculiar smile crossing her features. "That's Mrs. Crane to you, Theresa."

Theresa studied Ethan's wife. Gwen was very much as Theresa remembered her, from her appearance to her attitude. Theresa felt anger begin to boil in her. "If you want to play the name game, fine. In that case, you may call me Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald," Theresa replied, trying to keep her cool.

Gwen refused to address Theresa as her equal. "_Theresa_, I know the real reason you are here," she announced.

Theresa crossed her arms. "Then by all means, enlighten me."

"You're here because of Ethan," Gwen said.

"Puleeze! Go someplace else to have your security blanket patched up. I have more important things to do," Theresa said walking away from her.

Gwen grabbed Theresa by the arm and spun her back around. "Don't walk away from me! We aren't finished. After everything you did to try to ruin my relationship with Ethan, I think you at least owe me that courtesy."

"Fine," Theresa said, jerking her arm away from Gwen's grasp. "Say what you have to say and then leave."

Mr. Fowler approached Theresa and Gwen. "Is everything alright, Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald?" he asked.

"This is a private conversation, if you don't mind," Gwen responded hotly.

Mr. Fowler looked to Theresa, and she nodded. "I'll be fine," she assured him.

Gwen watched Mr. Fowler hesitantly leave the two of them to go back to work. "How touching, Theresa. I see that you still have men coming to your rescue."

"And I see that you still get your kicks from pushing people around."

"I'm certainly not the bad guy here, Theresa. I _know_ how manipulative you are; everyone does. It simply amazes me how you can show your face here in Harmony after everything that you've done."

"You aren't telling me anything I haven't already considered. Whether you believe it or not, I am sorry for how I behaved, but I'm not sorry for the emotions behind those actions. Ethan was never mine to love, but I did love him."

Gwen laughed. "You didn't even know the real Ethan! You loved the dollar signs you saw when you looked at him."

Theresa raised an eyebrow. There was a time when she thought she knew Ethan almost as well as she knew herself. She wasn't so sure of that anymore. "You want to think the worst of me, and I understand that. I would probably do the same if the situation were reversed."

"How _generous_ of you," Gwen replied sarcastically, placing her hands on her hips.

"Look, Gwen. I'm not here to try to cause trouble for you. I've been away from home for five years. Chuck is gone, and I have nothing left to keep me in New York. My family is here. My friends are here. Can't you understand why I might want to be here, too?"

"What I understand is that you always have an ulterior motive. In fact, someone really should warn Whitney about you. After all, you do have the tendency to chase your friends' fiancés."

"I'm not even going to dignify that statement with a response, except to say this: you were _never_ my friend. To you, I was always 'the housekeeper's daughter.' The only reason you ever called yourself my friend was because it was convenient for you."

Gwen frowned. "That simply isn't true. I mistakenly put my trust in you; I did think of you as a friend."

"As I said, you only called yourself my friend when it was convenient for you, and you badmouthed me at every other opportunity. I still remember how you came to what was supposed to be my father's funeral, not because you wanted to offer your condolences or your support, but because you wanted to prove to Ethan that I didn't have a boyfriend..."

"Which you _didn't_," Gwen interjected.

"Yes, you were right about me, but I certainly wasn't out to sabotage your relationship with Ethan. You were doing a fine job of that all on your own. But that isn't the point. The point is that you used a time of personal tragedy for my family to try to further your cause. That was cold, Gwen. I never believed even you would act that way until I saw it with my own eyes."

Gwen smiled, "Congrats, Theresa. You've certainly changed in one respect. You were never my equal when it came to confrontation, but I see you've improved. I must tell you that it makes this little...interlude...all the more interesting."

"I'm so flattered," Theresa said dryly. "This coming from a woman who specializes in tearing other people down to make herself feel important and secure. Don't think I've forgotten how you treated my mother, a woman who never showed anything but kindness to you."

Gwen looked around her and held out her hands indicating the boutique. "And don't you forget that your little operation exists only as long as I allow it to exist. Hhhmmm. I pity you. How _miserable_ it must be to know that someone else is calling the shots...that someone else is in control. Though you should be used to that, I imagine. After all, you had to whore yourself to Chuck Wilson to get where you are today."

Theresa felt the color rise in her cheeks. "I worked hard to get where I am today, and it had nothing to do with Chuck! I can't say the same thing about you; you were born with more money than you know what to do with. Yet you look down on people who have actually _earned_ what they have."

Gwen clenched her jaw. "You can go to hell, Theresa."

"I've already been to hell and back. Now that you've said your peace, get out."

"Gladly," Gwen said turning to leave. She stopped and looked over her shoulder. "But don't forget what I said. I'll be watching you." With that, she started heading toward the door.

Theresa watched her leave and muttered, "Right. And don't fall off your broomstick on the way home!"

* * *

"Whit," Theresa said as she used her fork to play with her spaghetti, "it was terrible!"

Whitney Russell sat across from Theresa at her friend's kitchen table. "Theresa, you had to know this day would come. There was no way that Gwen Crane would just let this matter slide."

Theresa sighed. "I know. She has every right to distrust me, and I can't sugar coat that fact. But her ugly remarks aren't even what bothered me the most. It was my own reaction that bothered me. It's just that being around her brings out the absolute worst in me. I don't like the person I become when I'm with her."

"What exactly happened?"

Theresa put her fork down on her plate. It was no use. She simply wasn't hungry. "Gwen came into the boutique and pretty much told me that I shouldn't get too comfortable with the shop, that she could close me down if she wanted to."

"Which is what you were afraid of," Whitney commented.

Theresa nodded. "She just made me so angry, Whit. She started off by telling me to call her Mrs. Crane, obviously trying to flaunt her marriage to Ethan. Then she announced that she knew the 'real' reason I came back to Harmony. Of course, she made it all about Ethan. She thinks that somehow I am underhandedly trying to get him back, which is utterly ridiculous."

"Is it?"

"Whitney! Not you, too!" Theresa exclaimed in exasperation.

"I'm sorry, Theresa, but I can see why Gwen might not believe your motives for returning to Harmony are honest ones. Look, I'm not saying that you _are_ after Ethan. I'm just saying that I can understand why Gwen is distrustful of you."

"Be that as it may, you should have heard her. It just makes me so furious to see the way she treats people. When Mr. Fowler heard Gwen railing into me, he approached us to make sure everything was alright. Let's just say that Gwen definitely has a knack for tearing other people down."

Whitney nodded. "I'll never forget how she treated your mother after the wedding."

Theresa closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again. "I should have known better. I should have known there would be consequences for my actions, but I just couldn't see it at the time. Gwen couldn't fire Mama because technically Mama worked for Mrs. Crane, but she certainly made it her mission to make Mama's life miserable."

Whitney reached out and took Theresa's hand. "It's all over now, Honey."

Theresa shook her head. "To Gwen, it will never be over. She put me on notice, and I think she's just biding her time until she can figure out a way to completely and utterly destroy me. Never mind that I have worked my fingers to the bone to get where I am now. She actually accused me of sleeping my way up to the top."

"What did you do?"

"I told her she was wrong, and that she couldn't possibly understand what it is to have to work for something and to accomplish something on her own."

"Ouch!" Whitney replied. "You have to know that to a woman like Gwen who prides herself on being so business-savvy, that's going to be a sore spot."

Theresa smiled faintly. "Though she never had to work for what she has, I have to give Gwen credit. She's good at what she does." Her expression hardened. "But for her to think that she has the right to come to my place of business and threaten me...it's...it's just the epitome of arrogance."

"I have the feeling that whatever you said to her earlier was well deserved," Whitney replied.

Whitney's brows furrowed, and this perplexed Theresa.

"What is it, Whit? Has Gwen done something to upset you, too?"

Whitney shook her head. "It isn't anything in particular. I just get this sense from her that she strongly disapproves of Ethan's friendship with Chad, as though somehow, Chad is beneath her and Ethan."

"I think Gwen knows that Chad was pushing Ethan to admit his feelings for me before their wedding. It makes her nervous."

"I'll say!" Whitney agreed. "To be honest with you, I am concerned what her reaction is going to be when she realizes that you are going to be the maid of honor to Ethan's best man."

"Speaking of which, why didn't you tell me earlier that Ethan was going to be Chad's best man?"

"I didn't know about Ethan until I'd already asked you, and then I just didn't know how to bring it up."

"I'm okay, Whitney. I'm not going to break."

"I know. It's just a strange situation."

"You're right. It is a strange situation, but Ethan and I are adults. We can handle being around each other for a day."

"Speaking of Ethan, Chad told me that you saw him."

"I did."

"And?"

"And nothing. There is nothing between Ethan Crane and me, and there never will be."

"Come on, Theresa."

"I'm telling you, Whit. There's nothing there." _And maybe if I say those words enough times, I'll start to believe them, too._

"If you say so," Whitney replied. Somehow, she just didn't believe it. There would always be something between Ethan and Theresa.

Theresa touched her chin. "Tell me, Whit. Do you think Ethan and Gwen are happy?"

"I'm not _even_ going to have this conversation with you, Theresa," Whitney said standing up to take her plate to the sink.

"Why does everyone skirt this issue? I asked Sheridan if Ethan was happy, and she never really answered me. I asked Ethan if life was what he had expected, and he told me that life is never what we expect it to be. And then with Gwen coming to the boutique as this woman on a mission, I can't help but wonder."

The phone rang. "Isn't _that_ convenient?" Theresa asked before heading toward the phone. Whitney had to admit that she felt relieved.

Theresa picked up the cordless phone and answered it. "Hello?"

Whitney watched as the playful expression on Theresa's face fell into a somber one, and Theresa left the room with the phone.

I _wonder what's going on_, Whitney thought to herself. _I hope Theresa is alright._

A few minutes later, Whitney heard the phone beep, and she knew Theresa had hung up. She walked into the living room where Theresa sat numbly on the couch, holding a photo of Chuck.

Whitney sat next to her friend and put an arm around her. "What is it, Theresa? What happened?"

"That was Emmaline Wilson," Theresa replied.

Immediately, Whitney understood. Chuck's mother had a difficult time with her son's death and sometimes called Theresa to commiserate. "Did she say something to upset you?"

"No, no. She is one of the nicest ladies I know. Actually, she, um, called because she found some photos of Chuck and me together that she thought I might like."

Whitney swallowed. "That was very thoughtful of her."

Theresa eyes filled with tears. "She has no idea that I have betrayed her son."

A myriad of thoughts raced through Whitney's mind. How could Theresa have betrayed Chuck? It was impossible. "Don't be ridiculous, Theresa. I know you would never betray Chuck."

"But I have, Whit. I met someone today."

"Really?" Whitney said in relief, glad to know that Theresa's sense of 'betrayal' had nothing to do with Ethan Crane. She smiled, "Honey, that's not a betrayal to Chuck. He would want you to go out and get to know other people."

"It just feels like a betrayal. I mean, I don't even really know the guy; don't really even like him. He just piqued my curiosity. But here Emmaline has graciously offered to send me pictures of Chuck, and I've just made plans to go out with another man."

"Theresa, there's nothing wrong with wanting to get to know a person better. It's just a date, not a lifelong commitment."

"In my mind I know you're right, but in my heart..." her voice trailed off.

"Didn't you just tell me that you don't really like him? Why is that?" Whitney asked trying to take the conversation in a new direction.

"When I was running this morning on the beach, he approached me. He mentioned that he had seen me the other day at Brazen, and get this could feel the 'connection' between us. He asked me out, but I said no."

Whitney started to laugh. "That certainly was confident of him."

"Oh, I think he's probably one of the most arrogant men I've ever met. I know his type. He just expects women to flock to him. The whole thing makes me sick."

"Then what made you change your mind?"

"I went over to the youth center to see Sheridan, but she wasn't there. They've been having some problems with funding, and I was hoping to help out. And guess who was there?"

"The guy. What's his name, anyway?"

"Drew Winthrop. Whit, it was the strangest thing. He seemed so self-centered, but there he was, not only giving a rather sizeable donation, but he also went to play basketball with the kids. He asked me out again, and I said yes, more from curiosity than anything else. I just can't figure him out, but there is something almost...familiar about him. It's actually quite eerie."

"I think you should go, Theresa. Solve the mystery of this Drew Winthrop. Then if you don't want to see him again, you don't have to. It's not a betrayal to eat dinner with someone."

Theresa looked at the photo she held of Chuck. "Perhaps you're right."


	18. Chapter 18

Author's Note: In the summer of 2000 when _Passions_ was still in its early stages, I absolutely adored the relationship between Ethan Crane and Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. I discovered the wonderful world of fanfiction and even had my own fanfiction site, and this story was born through my enthusiasm for this show, this couple, and storytelling. This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, and though there are aspects of the story that I am tempted to change in 2010, I won't because the original (flaws and all) holds a special place in my heart.

I previously posted _The Most Carefully Laid Plans _on my site, Once Upon a Time, as well as on Turtle Run and Coffeerooms. It is no longer in any of those places and hasn't been for quite awhile, though I do still get e-mails from people from time to time wondering where they can find a copy. So in celebration of the tenth anniversary of this story, I decided to post it here.

Obviously, I do not own the _Passions _characters found within the story, though the original characters are my own. Nor am I affiliated in any way with _Passions. _No money is being made from this story. Believe me-if I did control _Passions,_ the show would've gone much differently.

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen: "Perfectly Criminal"**

Sheridan stood outside of the Crane Mansion, hesitating. With the exception of her nephew, Ethan, she did her best to avoid her family. When she discovered her father and brother's machinations, she had all but cut them from her life. She wouldn't even be at the Crane Estate if she hadn't desperately wanted to speak to Ethan. She still felt as though Ethan had some unresolved issues with Theresa, and she knew she hadn't helped matters by practically telling Ethan to brush his feelings under the rug. She knew he'd been doing that for five years, and somehow with Theresa back in town, Sheridan had the distinct feeling that everything was going to blow up if he didn't confront the issues head-on.

She'd meant to speak to him yesterday, but between morning sickness and the baby's kicking, Sheridan felt tired much of the time. Somehow she wasn't surprised that Luis's child was giving her a difficult time. The baby wouldn't be making an appearance for a few more months, but it was already exhibiting its father's stubborn streak.

Unconsciously, she touched her abdomen and smiled. "What will you be like as a teenager?" she asked.

She took a deep breath, and slowly opened the door. It was still fairly early in the day, and Sheridan was nearly certain she would be able to catch Ethan before he went to work. Squaring her shoulders, she was determined not to broadcast any of the uncertainty she felt in returning to her family's home._ You're above this,_ she told herself.

As she walked in, she heard Julian's voice. "Well, well, well. If it isn't my _dear_ little sister. To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?"

Sheridan cringed. Just the sound of her brother's insincere voice was enough to make her want to scream. She and Julian had never been close, but at one time, she had believed that deep down, he loved her. It was a tough pill to swallow when she realized that she'd been but a pawn to both her father and brother. Love that should have been unconditional among her family didn't even exist.

She looked at her brother, still wearing his robe with a brandy in his hand. "Isn't it a little early for you to be drinking, Julian?"

"Tsk. Tsk. You're just a spoilsport because you can't drink right now."

Sheridan crossed her arms. "How fortunate that men don't have babies. I know that _you _would never have made it through a trimester without liquor of some sort."

Julian sneered, "What a pity your pedigree is wasted on the Lopez-Fitzgerald brood."

"And what a pity that you're just a waste," Sheridan retorted. She turned when she heard footsteps.

"Sheridan!" Gwen exclaimed giving Sheridan a hug. "I'm so glad to see you!"

"You're a welcome relief, especially after a few minutes with _Julian_," Sheridan said, giving her brother the evil eye.

Gwen looked over at her father-in-law and understood how Sheridan felt. Gwen had never completely forgiven Julian for pushing Ethan toward Theresa. Granted, Julian had only ever suggested a casual fling, but it still made Gwen's blood boil that Julian would encourage Ethan to be unfaithful to her.

Gwen turned her attention back to her friend. "I know it sounds like such a cliche, but you simply have a glow about you."

Sheridan groaned. "Maybe the glow is God's way of compensating for morning sickness that lasts all day."

"Why don't you come and sit down," Gwen said. "I'll get your some orange juice."

Gwen walked to the table where orange juice and other assorted beverages were arranged. She took the pitcher of juice and began to pour the liquid into a juice glass. Julian walked up beside her and whispered in her ear, "She's up to something."

"Don't be ridiculous," Gwen hissed.

"Mark my words. She_ is _up to something. Sheridan never comes here unless she absolutely has to." With that, he left the room.

Gwen walked back to the sofa and sat next to Sheridan. "Here's your juice."

"Thanks, Gwen," Sheridan took a sip. "What was Julian saying to you?"

"Nothing important. He just likes to play games with me, that's all."

"Yes, my brother is an old pro, isn't he?" Sheridan concurred.

"So what brings you by so early? I don't see you here very often."

"Actually, I was hoping to speak to Ethan about a couple of things," Sheridan replied.

"He's in the shower right now," Gwen replied thinking of Julian's words to her. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Sheridan smiled. Talking to Gwen about Ethan's feelings for Theresa would certainly not go over well. "No, what I need to say can only be said to Ethan."

Was Sheridan hiding something from her that involved Ethan? Gwen's voice grew harsh. "We're family, Sheridan. I don't see why you can't tell me what is going on."

"It's no big deal, Gwen. I just need...advice about something."

Immediately, Gwen felt remorse. "I'm sorry, Sheridan. I shouldn't have snapped at you. Ethan should be down in a few minutes, but I'm glad we have this opportunity to visit. I wanted to ask you about something."

"Sure. What is it?"

"Were you ever planning to tell me that Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald is back in town?"

"How did you find out?"

"I walked in on a conversation between Ethan and his mother. Ivy was going on about all of Theresa's wonderful attributes." Gwen rolled her eyes. "But you still haven't answered my question. Were you ever planning to tell me about Theresa?"

Sheridan shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I'm sure that it would eventually have come up."

"It would have eventually come up? Sheridan, I feel like a person who hasn't been informed of the parole of a criminal who committed a crime against her. Let me tell you; it's not a pleasant feeling," Gwen said standing.

"Theresa is hardly a criminal," Sheridan replied.

"You know what she did to Ethan and me; how she tried to ruin us. How can you defend her?"

"How can I not? She's my sister-in-law, Gwen. I've been getting to know her since she came back to Harmony, and the more I see of her, the more I like her."

Gwen's mouth gaped open in shock.

"Look, I know that it must be hard to believe this, but I see changes in Theresa. She's not a love-struck girl anymore. She's grown into a warm, decent young woman who has had more than a few hard knocks. She's been forced to grow up, but she's done it with dignity. I was skeptical at first, but I had a long talk with her about Ethan. I let her know that I wouldn't tolerate any manipulations on her part. I found her to be sincere and open."

Gwen shook her head. "But that's where you're wrong, Sheridan. To truly be sneaky, the way Theresa is, you have to be a master at fooling people. The art of being sneaky is to not let people realize just _how _sneaky you are."

"I'm telling you, Gwen. Theresa is not the monster you've created in your mind. She made some terrible choices and showed a terrible lack of good judgment..."

"And class," Gwen interjected.

"...but at heart, she's not a manipulator. I firmly believe that."

"Well, I've already put Theresa on notice."

"What do you mean?" Sheridan asked.

Gwen smiled. "I just let her know that there will be consequences if she tries anything. I'm not foolish; I believed in her once. Never again. A leopard doesn't change its spots. Sooner or later, the real Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald is going to emerge. And when she does, I'll be ready for her."

"You make it sound as if you're fighting a war!"

"I _am _fighting a war, Sheridan. I am not going to let her back into our lives."

"To be perfectly honest, I don't think that Theresa is interested in any man right now, and I doubt she will be anytime soon."

Gwen leaned closer to Sheridan. "Why do you say that?"

Sheridan's expression softened. "Chuck's death hit her hard. She tries to be strong, but I know it still hurts. Luis spoke to her about moving on, not shutting other men from her life. The impression I got from Luis was that Theresa was not very receptive to his suggestions. She still wears Chuck's engagement ring, and I don't think that she has room in her heart for another man. So can you understand why I believe her when she says that she's not after Ethan?"

A sm_all smile crept onto Gwen's face. _Could Chuck Wilson be Theresa's Achilles's heel?

Sheridan noticed the odd look on her companion's face. "What are you thinking?"

Gwen shrugged. "Just that I have nothing to worry about."

"I'm glad you're starting to see things my way. You know I care for you, Gwen. I would hate to be put in a situation where I'm being pulled between you and Theresa."

"I'm sure it won't come to that," Gwen replied.

"Just don't make things hard on her. Please, Gwen?"

Gwen wasn't sure how to respond to Sheridan's request. Gwen hated to out-and-out lie to Sheridan when she knew perfectly well that she certainly wouldn't leave Theresa alone. She was determined to make Theresa's life as difficult as she possibly could. Fortunately for her, she looked to the entrance of the room and saw Ethan approaching.

"Oh, Ethan darling," she said standing up and walking to her husband, "look who is here this morning." Gwen looped her arms around her husband's waist. "Your aunt is positively glowing, isn't she?"

Ethan smiled at Sheridan. It _was_ a nice surprise. "She certainly is."

Gwen turned to Sheridan. "You know, Sheridan, I keep telling Ethan that we need to start a production of our own. Wouldn't it be wonderful if our children could be playmates?" She looked up at her husband. "They would be dear friends, just as you and Sheridan were while growing up."

Sheridan couldn't help but notice the look of discomfort on Ethan's face, and she empathized with both Gwen and Ethan. Gwen seemed to want a family desperately, while Ethan was hesitant to start a family while his feelings for Theresa lingered.

"Gwen, we've talked about this," Ethan whispered, rubbing his wife's shoulder. "We need to wait until we have the time and energy to devote ourselves to a child completely."

Gwen smiled weakly. "It was worth a try," she replied.

Ethan looked at his Aunt Sheridan, eager to change the subject. "Don't think I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?"

Sheridan slowly stood. "I was hoping to get your advice about something. Do you have time to talk before you go to the office?"

"I always have time for you. You know that," Ethan replied.

"Good. Would you like to go for a walk in the garden?"

"Sounds perfect," Ethan replied.

Sheridan and Ethan began to walk toward French doors which led to the garden path. Before leaving the house, Sheridan turned around and said, "Gwen, please remember what I said."

"I will," Gwen replied. She certainly would remember, and she planned to use the information to her benefit.

As Ethan and Sheridan walked down the garden path, Sheridan was careful to put distance between them and the main house before beginning to speak to Ethan.

"You have me curious, Sheridan. What did you need to talk about?"

Sheridan sighed. "The truth is that I lied to Gwen. I don't need advice. I just wanted to talk to you about Theresa."

A cloud crossed Ethan's features. "That's a closed topic, Sheridan."

"Look, Ethan, I don't mean to pry. I just feel badly about the way we left things earlier. You were trying to explain what was going through your mind where Theresa is concerned, but all I did was cut you off."

"No, you did the right thing. You helped to bring me back to reality."

"You don't seem very happy about it, though. I could sense a strain between you and Gwen just now, particularly when she mentioned having a child."

"I love Gwen. I really do. We come from the same world. She's beautiful, smart, honest everything I've ever wanted in a wife."

"Everything? Are you sure you aren't just with her until someone better comes along?"

"Sheridan!" Anger flared in Ethan's eyes.

"Well can you blame me for asking?"

"Yes, I can!"

Sheridan reached out and touched Ethan's arm. "Ethan, you know I think the world of Gwen. It just concerns me to see you so restless, as though you're longing for something...or someone. If I can see it, I'm certain Gwen can, too."

"I know, Sheridan. Don't you think that it tears me up inside to know that I've hurt Gwen?"

"Ethan, you're a good man. I have no doubt in my mind that you wouldn't hurt Gwen on purpose."

"Gwen's never been anything but honest with me. I feel like such a fool to be fawning over a woman who did nothing but lie to me. Obviously, I deserve a part of the blame, too, but Theresa made me believe in something...in someone...that never existed."

Sheridan frowned. "I get the strangest feeling about that whole situation, Ethan. don't think we know everything."

"You know what? It doesn't even matter anymore. I'm committed to Gwen. I love Gwen. And nothing else matters. Not Theresa; not the past."

Sheridan looked at her nephew skeptically. _Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?_ she wondered. Yet she couldn't help but think of the circumstances surrounding Theresa's exposure. Gwen had described it as a fox hunt, while Ethan had often told Sheridan that he felt as though he had fed Theresa to the wolves. Something just didn't ring true in the matter. Sheridan couldn't put her finger on it, but she was determined that she would.

* * *

Drew Winthrop yawned lazily and stretched. His companion, hearing him stir, threw her arm over his shoulder and began to nibble on his neck. His mind still felt foggy from sleep. _What is her name again? Heather? That's right her name is Heather_.

He smiled to himself. Heather sure did like to have fun, and she'd shown him just how much the night before. Of course, she wasn't much of a challenge. Practically all he had to do was crook his finger, and she came running. Still, there were advantages to being with easy girls. Not having to devote much energy to the chase left more energy for other equally worthwhile pursuits.

Drew turned on his pillow to face the petite red-head. "Good morning, Beautiful."

She pulled closer to him. "It certainly is," she murmured.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"Like a baby that is, when you let me sleep," she replied suggestively. "You know, even though you are horrible for my sleep cycle, I thought that tonight we could try a repeat of last night. It was incredible!"

"It was incredible, but unfortunately, I have a prior engagement," Drew replied, extricating himself from her hold. "Just some business that can't wait. It was unexpected, but fits in perfectly with why I came back to Harmony in the first place."

Heather propped her head on her hand. "Why did you come back to Harmony?"

Drew stood and pulled on a robe. Playfully holding his finger up to his lips, he replied, "Sshh. It's a surprise."


	19. Chapter 19

Author's Note: In the summer of 2000 when _Passions_ was still in its early stages, I absolutely adored the relationship between Ethan Crane and Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. I discovered the wonderful world of fanfiction and even had my own fanfiction site, and this story was born through my enthusiasm for this show, this couple, and storytelling. This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, and though there are aspects of the story that I am tempted to change in 2010, I won't because the original (flaws and all) holds a special place in my heart.

I previously posted _The Most Carefully Laid Plans _on my site, Once Upon a Time, as well as on Turtle Run and Coffeerooms. It is no longer in any of those places and hasn't been for quite awhile, though I do still get e-mails from people from time to time wondering where they can find a copy. So in celebration of the tenth anniversary of this story, I decided to post it here.

Obviously, I do not own the _Passions _characters found within the story, though the original characters are my own. Nor am I affiliated in any way with _Passions. _No money is being made from this story. Believe me-if I did control _Passions,_ the show would've gone much differently.

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen: "The Safe Guy"**

Drew Winthrop glanced at his watch. 7:45. He was not a man who was used to waiting. If anything, he liked to appear five minutes late for dates. It was a tactic he had employed for as long as he could remember. It wasn't so late that he appeared rude, but he also didn't appear extraordinarily eager. His persona was a mystique he had cultivated long ago, almost as a game he liked to play. Yet Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald had already thrown a chink into his plan.

Theresa glanced in her rearview mirror and beared her teeth. Good. No lipstick there. It was always one of her biggest fears that she would show up in public with pink teeth. She smiled to herself. They would match Emma Featherstone's hair, she thought.

She looked at the entrance to Brazen and felt reluctance seize her. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she said aloud. "I must be crazy. Drew Winthrop is so not my type." But she also realized that was what made him safe.

Drew Winthrop, "the safe guy." The very thought tickled her, though she doubted he would appreciate being labeled as safe. No, he seemed to be the type of man who thrived on having a bad-boy image. If he only knew what I was thinking, Theresa laughed to herself.

Theresa was late by at least fifteen minutes, and she hoped that Drew was a patient man. She hadn't intended to be late, but the day had been so busy, with overseeing renovations to the boutique and putting the finishing touches on her house. Decorating the beach house was turning out to be problematic simply because of her indecision. She would put the furniture in one place and change her mind about where she wanted it. Never mind that she still hadn't completely taken everything from the boxes. One of her bedrooms looked like it had been hit with a tornado with all the boxes and crates it held.

She groaned. "You're just making yourself later with this wavering," she said aloud. Slowly, she got out of her car and smoothed her pale pink sleeveless dress. It was an interesting contrast against her tanned skin. Her glossy dark hair was piled on her head, with a few tendrils framing her face.

Theresa took a deep breath, and walked into Brazen. Immediately, she saw Chad standing behind the bar. When Chad caught sight of her, he came around the bar and greeted her.

"Theresa, good to see ya."

Theresa smiled and immediately felt at ease. With Chad there, she had absolutely nothing to worry about...except a little prying, perhaps.

"It's good to see you, too, Chad."

"So, you here by yourself?" Chad asked.

"Yes and no. I'm actually meeting someone," Theresa said scanning the room. She saw Drew sitting in a side booth. Their eyes met, and he winked.

Chad looked in the same direction Theresa was looking. "Ain't that the guy that was here the other night lookin' you over?"

"That's him," Theresa confirmed. "His name is Drew Winthrop. But it isn't what you think," she was quick to add.

"It's not a date?"

"Not exactly. I met him while I was running, and he hit on me."

"And so you're here with him tonight?"

"Actually, I turned him down flat, but I ran into him later on in the day. He did something that I wouldn't have expected him to do, and it made me curious. I'm not really interested in him; just in what makes him tick. Plus, there's something about him that almost seems familiar."

Chad studied Drew. "Now that you mention it, I can see somethin' about him. Can't put my finger on it, but it's definitely somethin'."

"And I'm going to find out what it is," Theresa announced.

"Just be careful. The guy seems like a real player."

Theresa tilted her head and gave him an exasperated look. "I'm a big girl. Besides, maybe you need to be warning him. Ever think about that?" She laughed lightly and started heading toward Drew's booth.

Chad shook his head and mused to himself, "Girl, you got more gumption than most people would know what to do with."

As Theresa approached the booth, Drew stood to greet her. Taking her hand, his kissed it gently. "You look amazing, Theresa," he said. And he meant it. Theresa was a beautiful woman, and he knew it would be easy to lose his purpose where she was concerned if he became too aware of her beauty. Better to keep things simple. Still, it never hurt to have a little fun . . . .

"Thank you," she replied. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting. It's just been such a hectic day."

"No rest for the weary?"

She took a seat and he sat next to her. "Hardly. Between getting settled in my new home and overseeing the renovations for my boutique, there simply aren't enough hours in the day. Forgive me?"

Drew looked at her with his startling turquoise eyes. "Always," he promised. "Actually, I have something for you. Now where did I put it?" He glanced around the table, as did Theresa. She couldn't see a thing.

Then he laughed as though remembering. "Ah. Now I remember," he said.

Drew twisted his hand around and a perfect, long-stemmed red rose seemingly appeared from nowhere.

"Your hand was just empty. How did you do that?" Theresa asked in amazement.

Nonchalantly, confidently, he leaned back in the booth. Theresa took his hand and examined his long, slender fingers. Nothing. "I'll never tell," he replied.

"At least tell me if you do this for all the girls," Theresa said.

"Only when I want to impress them," he replied. "And when I want them to hold my hand."

Theresa arched an eyebrow and studied him. The blueness of his eyes was set off even more by the royal blue button_ up shirt he wore. His blond hair looked like it had been kissed by the sun. He was perfectly handsome. Somehow, she doubted very much that he had to resort to magic tricks to impress most women.

A waiter came to take their drink orders.

"I'll have an iced tea with lemon, please. No sugar," Theresa instructed.

"I'll have the same, but I need sugar. Lots of it," Drew said. He turned to Theresa. "I need a little sweetness in my life. I'm certainly not a particularly sweet person."

"Then what are you, Drew Winthrop?" Theresa asked.

"Hungry," he said looking at her intensely. "How about you?"

Something about the way he looked at her made Theresa feel very self-conscious. His words were tinged with a double meaning. That much was obvious to her. Time to turn the tables on him.

"Actually, I am having this insatiable craving."

"Really?" Drew asked. Would this be easier than he thought? "What are you craving?"

Theresa leaned forward and whispered, "Garlic bread. And lots of it."

Drew eyed Theresa suspiciously. "Theresa, are you sure you want to eat garlic bread tonight?"

Theresa leaned back and sat up straight. Looking at him with wide-eyed innocence, she replied, "Of course. Why wouldn't I want to eat garlic bread?"

Drew shook his head and laughed heartily. "You're a hard person to figure out."

"Funny. I was just thinking the same thing about you. I know nothing about you except that your name is Drew Winthrop, you fancy yourself a ladies' man, and you donate money to youth centers."

"There isn't much to tell. You, on the other hand, have me quite curious," Drew said. He reached out and touched the diamond ring on Theresa's hand. "Should I expect an angry fiancé to show up anytime soon?"

Theresa pulled her hand away and absently touched her engagement ring. "I only wish," she replied quietly.

Noticing her change in mood, Drew asked, "What are you saying?"

She swallowed hard. "I was engaged to be married to a wonderful man. He died in an accident."

"God, Theresa. I'm so sorry," Drew replied. And he meant it.

Theresa tried to shake off her melancholy. "It's been awhile."

"Did he live in Harmony?"

Theresa smiled. "No. I actually met him for the first time here in Harmony, but nothing really came of that meeting. It was when I'm moved to New York that we met again. It was fate." Her eyes had a dreamy quality that Drew couldn't help but note. "I only recently came back to Harmony."

"Oh, so you're a hometown girl."

"Yes, I grew up here. What about you? How long have you been in Harmony?"

"Just a few days. I've been here before visiting relatives, but I've never stayed for very long."

"My brother Luis had a friend who never stayed in one place for very long. He always was an adventurer. At least, that's how he liked to put it."

"An adventurer? I think I like that. I guess you could say I'm an adventurer, too. I lack the conviction to stay in one place too long. Too many complications."

What about when you were growing up?"

Drew laughed, but he wasn't as jovial as before. "Never let it be said that boarding schools don't know how to raise children." Just as soon as the clouds crossed his features, he seemed to shake them off. "What about your family? You mentioned a brother. . . ."

"I'm actually one of five children. I have three brothers and a sister."

"That's a nice sized family. And your parents?"

"Mama lives in Spain, and Papa is gone. Has been for years."

"_España es un país estupendo con muchas mujeres bonitas_."

"_Sí, señor. Pero España tiene otros calidades, tambien_."

"_Es verdad_. But I never saw a woman in Spain as beautiful as the one I'm looking at right now."

Theresa cleared her throat, not liking the turn the conversation was taking. "What about you? You never did tell me whether you have any brothers or sisters? And what about your parents?"

"That's a topic for another time," he said standing up. "Right now, I would love to dance with you."

"Fair enough for now," Theresa agreed, taking his extended hand. A new song was beginning, and Theresa giggled when she recognized it: 'Hungry Like a Wolf.' "Must be 80's night!"

_Dark in the city, night is a wire_

_Steam in the subway, earth is afire_

_Do do do do do do do do do do do do do do_

_Woman you want me give me a sign_

_And catch my breathing even closer behind_

_Do do do do do do do do do do do do do do_

As the two danced, Theresa looked across the room and saw Chad. He shook his head and smiled. Theresa was tempted to stick out her tongue at her friend, but decided against it. Drew might get the wrong idea.

_In touch with the ground _

_I'm on the hunt I'm after you_

_Smell like I sound I'm lost in a crowd._

_And I'm hungry like the wolf._

_Straddle the line in discord and rhyme_

_I'm on the hunt I'm after you._

_Mouth is alive with juices like wine_

_And I'm hungry like the wolf._

After eating supper with garlic bread, Theresa announced, "I don't know about you, but I would love some ice cream. There is this place near the wharf..."

"Say no more," Drew said. "We'll go check it out."

* * *

Chad watched as Theresa left with Drew Winthrop. He noticed that though Theresa was being friendly, whatever was going on between them wasn't romantic at least on her part. They simply didn't have the look of lovers...or of people who were about to become lovers. Chad certainly knew; he saw it all in his place.

Studying Drew once again, Chad was troubled by him. He seemed harmless enough, but something about him suggested that he had another agenda. Whatever his agenda was, it was about more than sex. Sure, men like Drew Winthrop enjoyed the chase, but they didn't waste their time with women like Theresa; women who made it clear that they weren't going to be caught. No, it was something else.

And Theresa was right; Drew Winthrop seemed familiar. Why was that?

Chad thought back to the last in-depth conversation he had with Theresa. She was a wounded woman, he knew, but she tried to cover it up. If he didn't know her as he did, she might have succeeded, too. But when he told Theresa that Ethan was going to be the best man at his wedding, the facade crumpled. She finally allowed him to see what she had been trying to hide. True, anyone in her situation would rightly feel awkward to be standing at the altar with a man to whom she had once been so close, but Chad had the distinct impression that it was more than that.

He had that impression when he spoke to Ethan, too. Though his friend denied it, Chad was certain that Ethan was not a happy man. He'd been haunted for too long, second-guessing decisions that had long since been made.

Actually, he wondered what was going through Ethan's mind now that Theresa was back in town and now that he'd seen her. He smiled to himself. And what would Ethan think if he knew Theresa was out on a date?

* * *

"So you've always been interested in the fashion industry?" Drew asked. He looked around him and could see other couples out for a walk that evening. As he recalled from previous trips to Harmony, it was a popular place for young couples.

"For as long as I can remember. Both the business and the creative aspects have always fascinated me." Theresa licked her ice cream cone.

"Ah a woman after my own heart. I studied business in college. Actually, I even got my MBA. a couple years ago."

"Yet you haven't done anything with it?" Theresa asked.

"As I told you before, I lack conviction. Besides, I already have more money than I know what to do with. I doubt I could live up to my family's expectations. So why would I want to try?" Drew asked flippantly.

"Drew, I don't know much about your family, but I'm sure that they would be proud of you, no matter what," Theresa assured him.

"My family isn't like yours, Theresa. We aren't good people."

"I have to disagree with you there. You might like to play games, which isn't something I like in men..."

"You're batting zero," he interjected.

"...but I saw something in you that I don't think you typically like for people to see. You can't tell me you're a bad person when I saw you not only donate money to the Harmony Youth Center but also play basketball with the kids. Why would you do that if you're a bad person?"

He grinned at her. "It keeps people guessing."

"It certainly does!" she agreed. "Perhaps you don't want to admit it, but beneath that cool, 'devil may care' attitude, you have a good heart."

"You're seeing what you want to see, Theresa," Drew warned.

She shook her head and said vehemently, "Believe me when I say I know better than to do that anymore. Besides, there's something about you that almost seems...I don't know...familiar to me."

"Maybe I just have one of those faces," he replied.

Theresa rubbed her chin and laughed. "I don't think so. And I'm sure most of the female population would agree with me."

"You do wonders for my ego, Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald," he teased.

"No, you've done wonders for your own ego," Theresa shot back.

"Keeping that in mind, will you meet me for lunch tomorrow?"

"I can't. I've already planned to be at the shop all day."

"Thursday, then?"

"I think I can manage that. Besides, you owe me stories about your family," Theresa reminded him.

"So I do. Why don't I come by your boutique and pick you up around 12:30?"

"Actually, I'm going to be running tons of errands on Thursday. It might be easier if I just met you. Where would you like to go?"

"I was thinking about the Harmony Country Club."

"But you have to be a member to go there," Theresa reminded him.

He smiled patiently, "And who says I'm not?"

"Okay, then. The Country Club it is."

Drew walked her back to her car, which she'd left at Brazen. Drew opened the door for her, and Theresa put her purse and rose inside.

"I had a good time with you tonight, Theresa. You're different from anyone I've met."

Theresa smiled, "I had a good time, too. You keep me on my toes." She stood on her tip-toes and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

After Theresa got into her car, Drew closed her door. He watched as she drove away, and a peculiar sensation overcame him. He felt something he hadn't felt in a long time: guilt.

* * *

Ethan Crane walked into Brazen, hoping he would run into Chad. He wasn't entirely certain why he felt the need to talk to his friend, but something compelled him. Normally he wouldn't go out without his wife, but Gwen was spending the evening with her mother and father.

Ethan spotted Chad immediately, who was talking with some of his customers. After Chad excused himself, he approached his friend and the two went to the bar to talk.

"Didn't expect to see you here tonight," Chad said.

"Actually, I didn't expect to find myself here. It's just been a crazy day."

"Why don't you tell me about it?"

Ethan shifted in his seat. "Sheridan came by the house this morning, wanting to talk with me."

"Sounds like it musta been pretty serious. She don't go there unless she has to, does she?"

"No. I should've known something was amiss. So we went for a walk in the garden, and all she wanted to talk about was Theresa." Ethan absently ran his fingers through his hair.

"Oh. I see."

"It gets better. She suggested that the only reason I'm with Gwen is because I've been waiting for someone better to come along, namely Theresa."

Chad's eyebrows shot up. "But you told her that wasn't so?"

"Of course I did! I might have been drawn to Theresa at one time, but Gwen is the woman I am committed to, the woman I love."

"So you're sayin' there's nothin' between you and Theresa?" Chad asked, disbelief edging into his voice.

"There can't be," Ethan insisted. "That's just the way things have to be."

"Why is that? Is Gwen what's holding you back where Theresa is concerned, or is it somethin' else?"

Ethan sighed. "I would never betray Gwen. She's never been anything but honest with me, and I trust her with my life."

"But you don't trust Theresa?"

"How can I? After everything that happened..."

"Man, I get the feelin' that there was somethin' else to that situation. I just don't think we know everything."

Ethan furrowed his brows. "That's odd. Sheridan said almost the exact same thing."

"Then maybe there's somethin' to it."

"I don't know. All I do know is that my life would be a lot easier if I'd never met Theresa Lopez_Fitzgerald!"

"You mean to tell me that you regret knowing her?" Chad asked incredulously.

Ethan thought for a moment before responding. "God help me, I wish I regretted it, but I don't. She just has the magic about her. She made me believe anything was possible." He paused a moment. "Damn! As much as I try to be angry with her or try to hate her, I can't."

"That's why they call it 'love.' You can't hate her because you love her."

"But I don't trust her, Chad. And love without trust what good is that?"

Chad was frustrated. _What is wrong with this guy?_ he asked himself. Then an idea occurred to him.

"Well, you might not have much longer to be mulling over this."

"What do you mean?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, Theresa is a beautiful, lively woman. It just so happens that she was here earlier tonight with a good lookin' fella. He seemed quite taken with her."

A frown, mingled with a look of shock, came upon Ethan's countenance. "Theresa had a date?"

"Did she ever! Listen, I checked this guy out, and he's something else. Quite the player."

"You're kidding!"

"No, I'm as serious as a heart attack." Chad chuckled. "Let me tell ya, bro. This guy is so smooth, he could charm the rattle off a rattlesnake."

"Did you keep your eye on them?"

"As best as I could, but you know how that goes..." Chad shrugged and his voice trailed off.

"How what goes?"

"Well, I couldn't very well keep my eye on them once they left...together."

Ethan suddenly stood.

"Where you goin'?" Chad asked.

"To find Theresa," Ethan announced with determination before leaving hurriedly.

Chad sat back and muttered to himself, "Damn. I'm _good_."

Credits:

"Hungry Like a Wolf" words and music by Duran Duran


	20. Chapter 20

Author's Note: In the summer of 2000 when _Passions_ was still in its early stages, I absolutely adored the relationship between Ethan Crane and Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. I discovered the wonderful world of fanfiction and even had my own fanfiction site, and this story was born through my enthusiasm for this show, this couple, and storytelling. This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, and though there are aspects of the story that I am tempted to change in 2010, I won't because the original (flaws and all) holds a special place in my heart.

I previously posted _The Most Carefully Laid Plans _on my site, Once Upon a Time, as well as on Turtle Run and Coffeerooms. It is no longer in any of those places and hasn't been for quite awhile, though I do still get e-mails from people from time to time wondering where they can find a copy. So in celebration of the tenth anniversary of this story, I decided to post it here.

Obviously, I do not own the _Passions _characters found within the story, though the original characters are my own. Nor am I affiliated in any way with _Passions. _No money is being made from this story. Believe me-if I did control _Passions,_ the show would've gone much differently.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty: "Evasions" **

"You never did tell me where you went this morning," Luis said to his wife.

He and Sheridan sat on the couch, snuggled together. It was a ritual they followed nightly as they shared the day's events with each other. Usually, it was something that Sheridan looked forward to, but she was not entirely prepared to answer Luis's questions, especially if the topic of her family were to come up.

Sheridan didn't want to lie. Perhaps evasion would work. "I just went...out."

"To do what?"

"Run errands," she replied.

"What kinds of errands?" Luis asked.

Sheridan hesitated before finally replying, "I just did some shopping."

"Then where are your shopping bags?"

"I decided not to buy anything."

"You? Go shopping and not buy anything? Now _I'm_ the one who's not buying it," Luis said. "You're avoiding my questions."

"And you're acting as though this is a police interrogation," Sheridan replied, exasperation creeping into her voice. "Just trust that I did what I had to do."

"God, Sheridan, you_ didn'_t!"

"Didn't what?" Sheridan asked.

"The only time you get evasive like this is when your family is involved. You went to the Crane Estate this morning, didn't you?" Luis said.

Sheridan's blue eyes met her husband's brown ones. She'd been told too many lies in her lifetime; first by her father and brother and then by the men who only wanted her for her money. Yet Luis had never lied to her, and she was determined to maintain the trust between them even if she did have to explain things she would rather not explain.

She swallowed hard. "Yes, I did go to the estate this morning."

"Why? After everything Alistair and Julian did to you, why would you go there?"

"I needed to see Ethan," Sheridan replied. "It was something that couldn't wait."

Luis's expression hardened at the mention of Ethan's name. He knew his wife loved her nephew very much and felt as though Ethan were different from the others, but Luis still did not believe it. He considered Ethan to be a true Crane, from his arrogant attitude to the way he used people. _Theresa is a prime example of that,_ Luis thought to himself.

Luis's silence was deafening to Sheridan. "Aren't you going to say anything?" she asked.

"What do you want me to say? You know how I feel about your family, Ethan included. I just can't forget the way he treated my sister."

"Something that he has regretted ever since," Sheridan replied.

"What makes you say that?"

"Luis, Ethan is a good man who was just caught in a bad situation. He never meant to hurt Theresa the way he did, but when he discovered her lies...how did you expect him to react? Still, I know for a fact that wishes he had treated her differently."

"He probably just hates the idea that his true colors, which he tries so hard to hide, came out. He's so used to getting his way; so used to being in control. And when he didn't get his way and when he didn't have control of the situation, he reacted like a damn Crane!"

"Luis, _I _am a 'damn' Crane, as you put it," Sheridan said harshly.

"You know I didn't mean you," Luis said, his voice softening. "Look, all I know is that Theresa has been through enough this last year with Chuck's death. If Ethan knows what's good for him, he had better keep his distance and not make Theresa's life any more complicated than it already is."

Sheridan closed her eyes as she leaned against her husband. The antipathy Luis and Ethan had for each other had always been distressing to her, but tonight she found it particularly difficult to deal with. _What will Luis do when he finds out that Ethan still has feelings for Theresa?_ Sheridan wondered.

She thought back to the conversation she had with Ethan earlier in the day. Maybe Luis would never find out; maybe her worries were all moot points. Ethan seemed determined to cut Theresa from his thoughts, from his heart. At the same time, Sheridan knew firsthand that it was easier said than done. Sheridan thought back to years ago when she tried desperately to cast Luis out of her heart; when her father and brother tricked her into believing he was using her, as all the other men had done. Despite her feelings of betrayal, she never stopped caring about Luis, and she knew it was the same with Ethan and Theresa.

* * *

Gwen Crane walked into the living room of the Crane Mansion, sat on the plush sofa, and sighed. "Where are you, Ethan?" she asked aloud. Upon returning from her parents' house, she had expected to find her husband waiting for her. But to her dismay, she discovered Ethan's car was gone.

_Okay. Try not to jump to any conclusions,_ she told herself. _Ethan probably had some last minute business he had to take care of at the office. That has to be it!_ But Gwen wasn't convincing herself, and she knew she should stop trying. One thing her mother had always told her was that it was one thing to lie to others; that was permissible. But it was never permissible to lie to oneself.

"Wondering about your better half, are you?" Julian Crane asked as he entered the room.

Immediately, Gwen felt her stomach churn. It never ceased to amaze her that this man was Ethan's father. _Julian will not have the satisfaction of seeing me squirm,_ Gwen promised herself.

She forced a smile on her face and replied to her father-in-law. "Now why would I be wondering about Ethan?" she asked.

Julian smirked. "Well, he is a Crane...and Crane men are known to have insatiable appetites. Ethan's a chip of the old block."

Gwen could not hide her disdain. "You are disgusting, Julian. Ethan is nothing like you."

"If that's true, why were you sitting here alone?" Julian pointed out.

"Ethan called me at my parents' house and told me he had some work to do at the office. He said he would more than likely be late," Gwen lied.

"Funny you should say that, because I happen to know that Ethan went to...what is that place called? Ah, yes...Brazen. He said something about talking to Chad. Though what my son sees in that ruffian, I'll never know." Julian shuddered in disgust, still grateful the man who had lived part of his life on the streets was not his son. He had barely weathered the storm that came with that accusation, as it was.

Publicly, Gwen could not allow her distaste for Ethan's friendship with Chad to be known. Yet privately, she had to agree with Julian about Chad. She felt uneasy being around Chad and Whitney, too, for that matter. Part of the reason for her anxiety was that she had a completely different background from Chad and didn't know how to relate to him. Yet another part of her felt suspicious of him. Gwen knew that Chad tried to convince Ethan to leave her for Theresa during their engagement. It was something that Gwen had never been able to forgive.

"Well, Ethan must have left work earlier than he thought he would be able to," Gwen said, trying to cover her lie and maintain her pride. "And it isn't unreasonable for him to need to speak with Chad. He is, after all, going to be Chad's best man in his wedding to Whitney Russell."

"It amazes me that Ethan would want to take part in something so plebeian as a Russell/Harris wedding," Julian said. Suddenly, something seemed to strike him as funny, and he began to laugh.

"What?" Gwen snapped.

"I just thought of something. If Ethan is the best man, who do you expect to be the maid of honor at Chad and Whitney's wedding?"

Gwen's eyes widened. "Theresa!" she hissed. _Why can I never be free of that woman?_ she wondered.

"Yes. Won't it be something to see Ethan and the lovely Theresa walking down the aisle together, gazing longingly into each others' eyes?"

"It will be a cold day in Hell before that happens!" Gwen snarled before grabbing her purse and heading out the door.

Watching his daughter-in-law leave, Julian smiled. It was just too easy to get to Gwen. That part was always very amusing for him, but the fallout from Gwen's reaction was always juicier.

* * *

"Have you seen Ethan?" Gwen asked impatiently as she marched over to Chad who was behind the bar at Brazen.

Chad looked at Gwen carefully and could see the anger flaring in her eyes. He was glad he wasn't in his friend's shoes.

"Nah. I mean, he was here earlier, but he left."

"Did he happen to say where he was going?" Gwen asked, arms crossed and tapping her foot.

"If he did, I didn't catch it."

Gwen's eyes narrowed into razor sharp slits. "You know where he is, and you aren't telling me!"

"Now why would I do something like that?" Chad asked.

"Don't be disingenuous, Chad. It's not your style. You and I both know that you never wanted Ethan to marry me. You kept pushing him toward Theresa! It wouldn't surprise me in the least if you aren't doing the exact same thing now that the bitch is back in town."

"Cool it, alright? Theresa is my friend, and you will not diss her in my presence. As far as Ethan goes, I never told him to do nothin' that he didn't want to do in the first place. Got that?"

Gwen said nothing. She merely turned around and stormed out of the club.

Chad shook his head. "The only thing missing from that visit was the Wicked Witch of the West music. She is one scary chick."

* * *

_Theresa sat on the bench in the church with her mother, Miguel, and Luis. It was Sunday Mass, and Father Lonigan was nearing the end of the services. As was often his custom, he made announcements before dismissal. "...Do not forget our fish fry and bingo night this Friday. It promises to be great fun..." Theresa looked at him. He was still talking, but for some reason she couldn't understand what he was saying. It was almost as if he were speaking in gibberish. Then, just as suddenly as the gibberish started, she could hear him clearly again. "...And today, we have special musical guests Duran Duran."_

_Theresa heard some movement in the church and turned around. The band members from Duran Duran, in full eighties regalia, came running down the church aisle, musical instruments in hand. _

_"Mama, what are they doing here?" Theresa whispered._

_"Ssh, Teresita. Listen," Pilar instructed her daughter._

_Theresa turned to her brothers. "Luis, Miguel, what's going on?"_

_"Come on, Sis. What does it look like?" Luis replied as if talking to a child._

_"Yeah, Theresa. Can't you tell we're going to have a concert?" Miguel asked, rolling his eyes._

_Theresa stood and looked around her. "Doesn't anyone else think this is strange? We're in Mass, for God's sake!"_

_"Please, Teresita, do not take the Lord's name in vain while in His house," Pilar said, pulling her daughter down to her seat. _

_Theresa heard drums. Strange. They almost sounded like a knock. She looked at the band members. They were still setting up. Where was the drumming coming from?_

_Knock, knock, knock, knock._

Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald jerked awake, momentarily disoriented. She found that she was in her living room, having fallen asleep on the sofa. She looked around. No Duran Duran. She breathed a sigh of relief.

_Knock, knock, knock. _So that part wasn't a dream, she realized. Who would be knocking on her door so late at night? She glanced at her wall clock. It wasn't as late as she had originally thought; only about 11:30. Still, it was late enough.

She dragged herself off the sofa and to the front door. Slowly, she opened the door. Ethan stood there. "Ethan."

"I was beginning to wonder... whether you were going to answer the door," Ethan said, feeling his words get caught in his throat at he looked at Theresa. Her hair was loose about her shoulders and down her back. She wore a long, silky white nightgown with spaghetti straps. Simply put, she was the most beautiful sight he'd ever laid him eyes on. "Are you alone?" Ethan asked.

She stood aside and motioned for him to come inside. "Just Serendipity and me." She rubbed her eyes. "I had fallen asleep on the couch and was having the craziest dream. Ever have those?"

Her question was innocent, but Ethan immediately felt self-conscious. If she only knew that she was the one who visited him so often in his dreams. "I've been known to have a few," Ethan replied, trying to keep his voice neutral as he walked inside.

Theresa closed the door behind him and turned around. "I don't mean to sound rude, Ethan, but it is rather late. And I thought we agreed that we weren't going to see each other any more."

"You're right. We did agree to that," he replied, looking closely at Theresa. A stray piece of hair had fallen across her forehead, and without thinking, he brushed it back.

Theresa felt electricity surge through her when he touched her. She felt almost disoriented. Trying to shake off the feeling, she continued, "Then why are you here?"

"The truth is that I couldn't stay away from you," Ethan blurted out.


	21. Chapter 21

Author's Note: In the summer of 2000 when _Passions_ was still in its early stages, I absolutely adored the relationship between Ethan Crane and Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. I discovered the wonderful world of fanfiction and even had my own fanfiction site, and this story was born through my enthusiasm for this show, this couple, and storytelling. This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, and though there are aspects of the story that I am tempted to change in 2010, I won't because the original (flaws and all) holds a special place in my heart.

I previously posted _The Most Carefully Laid Plans _on my site, Once Upon a Time, as well as on Turtle Run and Coffeerooms. It is no longer in any of those places and hasn't been for quite awhile, though I do still get e-mails from people from time to time wondering where they can find a copy. So in celebration of the tenth anniversary of this story, I decided to post it here.

Obviously, I do not own the _Passions _characters found within the story, though the original characters are my own. Nor am I affiliated in any way with _Passions. _No money is being made from this story. Believe me-if I did control _Passions,_ the show would've gone much differently.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One: "The Tumult"**

"You couldn't stay away from me? Wh-what do you mean?" Theresa asked.

Ethan shook his head. "That didn't come out right. Let me rephrase that. I was talking to Chad, and he mentioned that you had a date tonight. He described the guy as a real player, and I was worried. So I decided that I should come and check on you. I couldn't stay away when I didn't know if you were alright."

"So that's why you were asking if I was alone," Theresa said, her understanding becoming clearer. She crossed her arms. "But what if I hadn't been alone? What would you have done? I'm a big girl, Ethan. I choose who I wish to spend time with. Besides, you gave up any claims on me a long time ago."

"That's not what this is about," Ethan insisted. "I was genuinely concerned for your well-being. Besides, I know how much you still miss Chuck. I didn't want you to do something and regret it later."

"Like someone _you_ know?" Theresa shot back at Ethan. "As you can see, I'm fine."

"Look, Theresa. . . ."

"Just go home, Ethan! I'm sure Gwen is frantic with worry, imagining everything that I'm trying to do to steal you away from her." Her voice dripped in sarcasm as she turned away from him.

"What are you talking about?"

"I had a visit from Gwen yesterday. She let me know that she doesn't trust me. And you know what? I don't blame her. If I were her, I wouldn't trust me, either."

Ethan grimaced. He could only imagine what that visit had been like. Gwen had many wonderful qualities, but she also possessed a doggedness that rivaled no other. For that reason, he had the distinct impression that Theresa was downplaying whatever happened during their visit.

"I'll talk to Gwen; let her know to just leave you alone."

"Don't bother," Theresa said waving her hand dismissively. "I fight my own battles now."

"You certainly do," Ethan replied. "In fact, I feel as though _we'v_e been fighting one ever since I got here."

Theresa turned away from Ethan, feeling her anger melt. "I guess we have been," she said softly. "Maybe it's just easier that way."

"How can it be?"

Theresa closed her eyes and tried to gather her thoughts. She knew her emotions were about to run away with her, and that was something she could not allow. Measuring her words carefully, she spoke, "It took me a long time to get over you, Ethan. I had my hopes and dreams built around one person, which is never a smart thing to do. I am determined to never go down that road again, but being around you makes that difficult."

Ethan couldn't believe what he was hearing. Was it possible that Theresa still had feelings for him even after everything that had happened? _Stop it, Crane!_ he told himself. _What do you have to offer Theresa now? You're a married man!_

Noticing his torn expression, Theresa asked, "What are you thinking, Ethan?"

"Just that I wish I had done things differently. I'm sorry that I hurt you, Resa."

"Resa," Theresa replied softly. "I haven't been called that in years." She felt the old memories and the old emotions flooding back to her.

_It had rained heavily that day, but it was over for the most part. All that remained were light showers bringing rain which fell gently to the ground forming perfect puddles outside on that warm day in May._

_Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald looked outside longingly, forgetting to concentrate on what she was being told. _

_"Theresa, did you hear me?" Ethan asked. _

_Snapping back to attention, Theresa turned to look at Ethan. "I'm sorry Ethan. What were you saying?"_

_"Just that you did a wonderful job on the reports." Ethan studied his companion carefully. Something was amiss. She didn't seem her normal, exuberant self that day. " Are you okay?"_

_"I'm fine. Just tired, I guess," she replied. _

_"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you to come over on your day off. You are always helping me and my family, and I've just taken you for granted."_

_Theresa smiled at Ethan. He was such a thoughtful, sensitive man. That was only one of the reasons she loved him. "I promise it's not that, Ethan. I love to spend time with you. Helping out, I mean," she was quick to add._

_"Then what is it? Is it Chuck? Are you missing him?"_

_"Good heavens, no!" Theresa said more forcefully than she had intended_. If I hear Chuck's name one more time, I am going to scream! _she thought to herself. "I mean, it has nothing to do with him."_

_"I'm glad this isn't about Chuck," Ethan stated._

_"You are?" Theresa asked, hope swelling within her._

_"Of course! I consider you to be one of my best friends, Theresa. I hate that this guy hurt you so badly, but it's good to know that you're moving on. Any man would be lucky to have your love."_

_"Do you really think so?" Theresa asked._

_"I know so," Ethan stated emphatically. "So if this isn't about Chuck, what is it?"_

_Theresa took Ethan's hand and led him to the window. "Do you see it, Ethan?"_

_Ethan looked out the window, but all he saw was a gloomy, foggy, rainy day. "What am I looking for?"_

_"The possibilities...the puddles."_

_Ethan looked at Theresa. "The puddles?"_

_"Don't tell me you never went puddle jumping when you were little!" Theresa teased._

_Ethan smiled. Theresa was unlike any woman he'd ever known. She found delight in the smallest, most obscure things, and in many ways, she opened up the world for him. _

_"I can't say I ever did," he replied._

_Her eyes grew dreamy. "When I was a little girl, Miguel, Paloma, and I used to love to go outside when it was raining. Mama never liked for us to be outside in the rain, so we'd try to sneak out. Our laughter always gave us away though. We would jump in the puddles, trying to splash the water on each other. Mama would make us come in, convinced that we were going to catch our deaths. Of course, now that I'm older, I know it must have been horrible to try to wash our clothes after our puddle jumping escapades. But Ethan, it was so much fun."_

_"It sounds like it. My brother, sisters, and I never had that much interaction. We were always in boarding school. I can't even begin to imagine what it must have been like to be together like that."_

_"I do have good memories," she replied._

_"What about now? Do you see Paloma often?"_

_She shook her head. "No. Nor Miguel, for that matter. When Paloma went to live with my tia, um, my aunt in Spain, it was hard. But we don't really have the money to go and see her, and she loves Spain so much, I'm not sure she'll ever want to come back to Harmony, unless it's for my wedding or Luis's or Miguel's."_

_"Why did she leave?" Ethan asked._

_"That's a long story," Theresa said, once again looking out the window. _

_Her expression was melancholy, and Ethan wanted to make the pain go away. He took her by the hand. "Come on," he told her as he began to lead her to the door._

_"Where are we going?" she asked._

_"I need help with something."_

_"What?" she asked._

_"Because you are, of course, an expert puddle jumper, I thought you could show a novice, like myself, the finer points of puddle jumping."_

_"Ethan, are you_ serious_?" Theresa asked._

_"Aren't you always the one who is telling me to do the unexpected?"_

_"So true," she replied. Impulsively, she stood on her toes and kissed Ethan on the cheek. "You are the best!" _

_"So I've been told," he said with mock seriousness._

_She playfully punched his arm. "In the immortal words of Miguel Lopez-Fitzgerald, 'Last one outside is a rotten egg!'"_

_Theresa had never had so much fun in her entire life. The first thing she did was take off her shoes, and she instructed Ethan to do the same. _

_"Come stand next to me," she told him, curling her finger._

_Not knowing her intentions, he did as he was told. Immediately, she jumped in the puddle, splashing him with water. An all-out water war soon ensued, culminating in Ethan picking Theresa up off her feet and laying her in a puddle._

_Shocked by the cold water, Theresa squealed. Between fits of laughter, she reached out and tickled Ethan who was leaning over her. Catching him off guard, Theresa managed to roll him around onto the ground. Still being tickled, Ethan grabbed her hands and pulled her down on top of him. "Did anyone ever tell you that you don't play fair?" he asked laughing. _

_"Who ever said we were going to play fair?" she asked with a devilish grin. _

_Their eyes met, and both became quite aware of their close proximity. Yet neither wanted to move. Ethan touched her face. She was so beautiful, so innocent._ If you only knew what I was thinking, _he thought to himself._

_"Theresita, Ethan, what is going on here?" Pilar asked, coming outside, carrying an umbrella._

_Ethan and Theresa looked up at her mother and quickly came to their feet. "We were puddle jumping, Mama."_

_"It looked more like wallowing in the mud to me," Pilar commented wryly. "Honestly, the two of you are going to catch your death!" _

_"I guess we should go inside," Ethan said._

_"You're right," Theresa said. _

_"Go up the back way. I don't want you tracking mud and water all over the house," Pilar said as Ethan and Theresa walked past her. "Oh, and Theresa, we'll talk about this tonight at home."_

_"Yes, Mama."_

"Dios, salva mi hija de ella misma," _Pilar muttered._

_Theresa emerged from the bathroom wearing a pair of Ethan's sweatpants and a button-up shirt. With a towel wrapped around her wet hair, she felt as though she were in a cocoon. She didn't mind, though. It made her feel cozy to be wearing Ethan's clothes, though they were hopelessly baggy on her. _

_"You certainly clean up well," Ethan said, looking up at her from his laptop computer. He, too, had showered and changed. _

_"Getting cleaned up after being in the mud would make anyone look better," Theresa said smiling. "Thank you, Ethan."_

_"For what?"_

_"For helping me to not miss my sister so much. For being my puddle jumping partner."_

_"We're making quite a habit out of being partners, aren't we?" he asked. "First, we were duet partners, then cookie partners, and now puddle jumping partners."_

_"I wouldn't have it any other way," she said softly. She swallowed hard. Soon he would be a married man, and he would never know how much she loved him. What would it be like to watch him marry another woman? She shuddered at the thought. _

_Seeing her tremble, he asked, "Are you cold?"_

_Without waiting for her response, he jumped up and rubbed her hands and arms. "Better?"_

_"Much," Theresa said looking up at him. "Gwen is a lucky woman. I hope that someday I will marry someone as kind and caring as you are, Ethan."_

_He saw the sadness in her eyes, and had to stop himself from wanting to just hold her. "There is someone out there for you, Theresa. Someone who will love you the way you deserve to be loved."_

_"From your mouth..."_

_He smiled at her warmly. "It will happen," he promised. _

_She nodded. "Um, I guess I should probably brush my hair and dry it."_

_"Sure," he replied._

_She removed the towel from her head and her long, dark hair came tumbling down her back. She pulled a hairbrush from her purse and sat on the edge of his bed. _

_"May I?" he asked extending his hand to take the brush from her._

_"Of course," she replied giving it to him. He sat on the bed behind her and began to gently brush her hair._

_Theresa closed her eyes. She felt as though she were in heaven and hell at the same time. His gesture was innocent, but intimate. He showered attention on her, but they would never be together._ No, we have to be! _her mind screamed._ Fate would not bring me this far just to desert me!

_Ethan moved his hand along the nape of her neck, moving her hair aside. She drew in a breath, praying that the moment would never end. A single tear trickled down her cheek._

_Seeing the tear, Ethan asked, "Did I pull your hair? Did I hurt you?"_

_Theresa turned around and looked in his concerned, blue eyes. "No. You've been so gentle," she replied softly. _

_He reached out and wiped her tear away. His hand lingered on her cheek, and she reached up and placed her hand over his, wrapping her fingers around it. She closed her eyes again, trying to gather her strength._

_"But someone hasn't been gentle enough with you," he whispered. _

_Her eyes opened and she looked at him intently. _

_"You are so beautiful," he said. "I can never get over it."_

_Theresa placed a finger over his lips. "Sssshhh," she said. She leaned forward and touched his lips with her own. A dam of emotions was released as she kissed him with her entire being. She could hardly believe her own boldness, but she couldn't hide what she was feeling any longer._

_Ethan tasted her, teased her. He tilted his head, kissing her deeply. His tongue sparred with hers, leaving both of them breathless, wanting more. _

_She tugged at the hem of his shirt, bringing it up until she had pulled it over his head. Lightly, teasingly, she ran her hands down his chest resting them at his waist. _

_She leaned back on the bed, and brought Ethan down on her. He kissed her feverishly, the heat within him becoming almost unbearable. He traced her neck with kisses as his hands reached between them and began to unfasten the buttons on the shirt she wore. She moaned softly as she ran her fingers through his hair. _

_Suddenly, they heard the door to the bedroom open, bringing them both back to reality. Theresa's eyes grew wide when she saw Julian Crane standing in the doorway._

_Julian cleared his throat. "Well, it seems I've interrupted something. I'll come back later." He winked at Ethan. "I knew you had it in you, Son." With that, he closed the door. _

_Ethan moved away from Theresa and sat on the edge of the bed. Leaning forward, he rested his head in his hands. "This has to stop," he said._

_"I...I know."_

_"I'm sorry. I've only made things harder on you, taking advantage of you the way I have."_

_She moved toward him and rested her head on his bare back. "Ethan, I'm the one who kissed you," she reminded him. "I know I probably shouldn't have done it, but you make me feel things that . . . ."_

_He interrupted her. "Don't say that. I can't be what you need me to be."_

_"But there is something between us, Ethan. I can feel it."_

_Ethan turned around and looked at her. He thought he would drown in her beautiful, brown eyes. "Resa, I've never known anyone like you. But there can't be. . . ."_

_"Resa?" she interjected. She smiled a little at Ethan's nickname for her. "No one has ever called me that before." _

_Her eyes held so much hope and life. Ethan couldn't bear to extinguish that. "Do you like it?"_

_She nodded. "I love it." _Just like you, _she silently added. "Ethan, do you think your father will say anything about seeing us together?"_

_"No," Ethan said with certainty. "Father prides himself on his prowess. Strangely enough, I think he was proud of me just now. God, I feel like such a toad. Gwen deserves better, and so do you."_

"Ethan, I never do anything that I don't want to do. Please remember that, okay?"

"Anything and everything seemed possible to us back then," Theresa said.

"It still is," he replied.

"No, not anymore, Ethan. I'm not the silly little girl who saw the world through rose-colored glasses. The truth is that no matter how much I wanted you, wanting you didn't make you mine. I won't apologize for how I felt, but you were never mine to love."

"I did love you, Resa," Ethan said.

"I know. I've always known. Sometimes love just isn't enough." She walked to a table and picked up a framed photo of Chuck. "I used to think that my sheer willpower could move mountains. Call it Latin-Irish bravado. How foolish I was!"

Ethan rested his hands on Theresa's shoulders. "Don't say that."

"Why? It's true. I remember that I used to think that we would be together because of my determination. And then, when Chuck died, I kept telling myself that if I didn't allow it to be said that he was gone, if I didn't allow it to be true, it wouldn't be."

He wrapped his arms around her from behind. All of her defenses seemed to go down as she melted into his strong arms. "I can't even begin to imagine what it must have been like for you. When I heard about your engagement, I was surprised, but I always wanted to you to be happy. And then when I found out about the accident . . . . it just didn't seem possible."

"Will our lives ever be uncomplicated, Ethan?"

Suddenly, the phone rang. Theresa hesitated. Whoever it was, she didn't want to talk to them. But what if it was important? After another moment, Theresa said, "I suppose I should get that."

She walked to one of the end tables and picked the cordless phone off the receiver. "Hello?" she asked wearily.

"Theresa." The voice was harsh, and Theresa immediately recognized it as being Gwen. "Where is he?"

"Gwen, what are you talking about?" Theresa asked.

Ethan, hearing his wife's name looked at Theresa.

"You know very well what I'm talking about. I spoke to Chad tonight and he tried to tell me that he didn't know where Ethan was, but I think he knew very well where Ethan was. He wouldn't lie to me unless you were involved."

"So you're looking for Ethan?" Theresa asked, so that Ethan could hear what was being said.

"That's what I just said," Gwen replied impatiently.

Ethan looked at Theresa and shook his head. Gwen would never understand why he had to go and see Theresa, why he had to make sure that a player wasn't taking advantage of her.

"I'm sorry, Gwen. I don't know where he could be." She hated lying...and hated knowing that if Gwen discovered she was lying, it would be confirming Gwen's rationale for being suspicious. "Listen, I'm very tired. It's been a long day, so goodnight." She hung up the phone before Gwen could get in another word.

Theresa looked back at Ethan. "I don't like lying."

"I know, and I wouldn't ask if it weren't important. I should get home."

Theresa frowned. "Yes, you should."

"Goodnight."

"Yes, goodnight," Theresa said, watching him walk out the door. She felt a knot in her throat. Why did he have to come? He'd done nothing but awaken the old feelings in her, and it made her feel miserable.

Then realization struck her. It was something that Gwen had said. She was distrustful of Chad, but perhaps she had reason to be. It was Chad who sent Ethan on his quest to make sure she was alright; Chad who knew very well that she didn't feel anything romantic toward Drew. _He was trying to play matchmaker! _

Theresa groaned. The last thing in the world she needed was Chad's "help."

She sat down on the sofa and pulled her knees to her chest. She felt a tumult of emotions, many of them involving Ethan Crane. "What am I going to do?" she said aloud as the tears began to roll down her cheeks.


	22. Chapter 22

Author's Note: In the summer of 2000 when _Passions_ was still in its early stages, I absolutely adored the relationship between Ethan Crane and Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. I discovered the wonderful world of fanfiction and even had my own fanfiction site, and this story was born through my enthusiasm for this show, this couple, and storytelling. This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, and though there are aspects of the story that I am tempted to change in 2010, I won't because the original (flaws and all) holds a special place in my heart.

I previously posted _The Most Carefully Laid Plans _on my site, Once Upon a Time, as well as on Turtle Run and Coffeerooms. It is no longer in any of those places and hasn't been for quite awhile, though I do still get e-mails from people from time to time wondering where they can find a copy. So in celebration of the tenth anniversary of this story, I decided to post it here.

Obviously, I do not own the _Passions _characters found within the story, though the original characters are my own. Nor am I affiliated in any way with _Passions. _No money is being made from this story. Believe me-if I did control _Passions,_ the show would've gone much differently.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two: "Shame on You"**

_Theresa loved to be in his arms. The touch of his hand on her small of her back as they danced, the electricity that passed through her whenever he was near, the way their eyes met and each knew what the other was thinking. It was simply perfect._

_Theresa rested her head against his chest as they danced slowly. Their bodies were a perfect fit, made for each other. She could feel the steady beat of his heart, so in sync with her own._

_Were there other people in the room? She wasn't sure, but did it even matter? All she knew was that she had found where she wanted to be for the rest of her life. _

_"I love you. With all my heart, I love you. I always have, and I always will," she whispered._

_She looked up into the face of the man she loved, and her eyes grew wide. "It's you."_

_Ethan smiled at her. "Of course it's me. Who were you expecting?"_

_"I...I..."_

_"Sssshhh," he said, tracing her lips with his fingers. "Don't think_. Feel." _His lips touched hers, caressing, probing. _

_Her mind felt cloudy, but she fought to maintain her senses. She knew she should get away from him, but her body would not comply. "This...can't...be...right," she said between kisses. The room seemed to be spinning around them._

_"It sure as hell isn't!" a harsh voice said grabbing her arm and pulling her away from Ethan. _

_Theresa met Gwen's angry gaze. "I can explain, Gwen. I didn't know..."_

_"Didn't know what, Theresa?" Gwen interrupted. "Didn't know you were kissing another woman's husband?"_

_Theresa looked for Ethan, but he was gone. The room darkened, with figures emerging from the shadows, surrounding her. _

_"I told you she wasn't to be trusted, Gwen," Rebecca Hotchkiss sneered. "The housekeeper's daughter is always going to try to reach above her station."_

_Pilar stepped forward. "Mi hija, just look at the heartache you have caused. I warned you! I warned you that nothing good could come from your love for Ethan."_

_Theresa walked to her mother, and took her hands. "Mama, please listen to me. I never meant..."_

_Pilar jerked away, as though Theresa's touch burned her. "Silencio! I do not want to hear it. It is time that you stopped living in a dreamworld and started to think about other people beside yourself. I am deeply ashamed to have such a spoiled, selfish child."_

_"Mama, please!" Theresa cried out. _

_"Tell me, Theresa," Gwen said. "Did you think I wouldn't find out how you feel for Ethan? I've been onto you since the day you returned to Harmony. You're so transparent!"_

_"But Gwen, please believe me! I didn't come back for Ethan. I didn't know! Honestly, I didn't!"_

_Gwen laughed. "Now isn't that ironic? Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald talking about honesty?" She stepped closer to Theresa. Reaching out, she smoothed Theresa's hair before grabbing onto a handful of it._

_Theresa gasped at the sudden pain she felt. _

_"Listen to me, and listen to me closely. You will never have Ethan!" Gwen released her hold on Theresa and pushed her away._

_"I don't want..." But Theresa couldn't finish her sentence when she saw Chuck standing there. Tears filled her eyes as she rushed into Chuck's arms. It had been so long since she'd been able to touch him. _

_She wrapped her arms around him, but he stood motionless, passive._

_Feeling the tension, Theresa looked up into Chuck's eyes. "What is it, Chuck? Please, I don't know how much time we'll have. Let's just make the best of it."_

_Chuck took Theresa's arms and pushed her away from him. "You've betrayed me, Theresa. How could you?"_

_Theresa felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her. "No, Chuck. I love_ you! _Only you."_

_"I thought that once, but it's always been Ethan, hasn't it?"_

_"No! My feelings for you were real! When you died, something inside of me died, as well."_

_Chuck's features darkened. "But now Ethan is bringing that back to life. Am I right?" _

_Gwen ambled to where Chuck stood and looped her arm through his. "I wouldn't listen to anything she has to say, Chuck. She's always been an opportunist.'_

_Chuck looked at Gwen and smiled. "You're right. I'd almost forgotten." The two of them started to walk away._

_"Please, Chuck, don't go! Don't leave me!"_

Theresa jerked awake, her breathing heavy. "What is wrong with me?" she asked as the tears began to flow freely. The dream had been terrible; more than terrible. To see the look of disappointment on her mother's face...Theresa shuddered. And Chuck! She'd seen such hurt and hatred in his eyes.

_I can't afford to be around you, Ethan. I just can't. _

But she also knew that each time she saw him, it became more difficult to want to stay away from him.

* * *

"Right, Chad. I'll be there for the tuxedo fitting at 4:00," Ethan said as he looked at the video image of his friend on the computer screen in his office. He rubbed his eyes unconsciously.

The night before had been a late one. He didn't get home until about 12:30, and he left for the office earlier than usual.

Thus far, he'd managed to avoid Gwen's questions about his whereabouts, but he knew he was just biding his time until the inevitable happened. She was undoubtedly going to want to know specifically where he was. Ethan didn't want to lie to Gwen, but he also didn't particularly want to admit that he rushed over to Theresa's house after Chad told him that she left the club with a man. He knew Gwen would never understand it. Hell, he didn't even understand it himself.

"Sure thing," Chad replied. He hesitated for a moment, but continued. "Ethan, my man, you're lookin' a little rough around the edges this mornin'. Have a late night?"

"Ha. Ha. Very subtle, Chad," Ethan grimaced.

"Look, when I see somethin' that needs askin', I just ask it. And let me tell ya, from the looks of you, you're beggin' for questions to be asked," Chad said grinning.

"It's too early for this," Ethan said straightening his tie. "I have other things that need my attention."

"I hope you give whatever it is the same devotion and, um,_ attention_ that you give to Theresa."

"That's not even funny!" Ethan growled.

"Wasn't meant to be. When are you gonna wake up, Ethan? It's been five years and you still think about her. Doesn't that tell you somethin'?"

Ethan knew he couldn't deny that the feelings were still there, but he couldn't allow himself to be consumed by thoughts of Theresa.

"All that tells me is that I have friends who constantly push me toward her. No wonder she's still in the back of my mind."

"In the back?" Chad laughed. "Nah, man. She's in front. _Way_ in front. Seems to me that it doesn't take your friends to make you think about Theresa."

Ethan fought against Chad's words. "Chad, I can't let myself go there again! I'm married to _Gwen_. I love _Gwen_."

"You say that like a chant or somethin' whenever the subject of Theresa comes up. Yet through it all, you haven't denied that you still have feelings for her."

Ethan opened his mouth to say something, but was stumped. Chad smiled at his friend. "Look, Ethan, I ain't sayin' these things to make your life harder. I just want you to give them some thought. You ain't doin' anyone any favors by sittin' on the fence. If you love Gwen and want to be with her, get Theresa out of your system. But if you love Theresa the way I think you do, don't let her go this time."

"I don't know what I want, Chad. This is so complicated! I've always been with Gwen, practically since we were children. I can't imagine my life without her, but . . . ."

"But there is a part of you a big part of you that wonders what life with Theresa would be like."

"I'm drawn to her; to her fire, her vivaciousness, her perseverance, her humor, her innocence, her wit, her beauty, her . . . ."

"I think I get the picture," Chad chuckled.

"How stupid am I, Chad? I mean, it's ridiculous to be drawn to someone who isn't honest! All the best qualities in the world don't mean a thing without trust."

"Let me ask you somethin'. Doesn't it seem strange to you that you're sittin' in judgment of Theresa and her so-called lack of honesty when you aren't being honest with anyone around you? It just seems to me that you've been goin' to great lengths for the past five years to deny your love for Theresa...to Gwen _and _to yourself. How many times in the course of your marriage have you told Gwen you love her and only her, but haven't told her that it's Theresa you dream about at night?"

Ethan felt a lump form in his throat. His feelings for Theresa weren't the only things he had lied about. He thought back to the secret he, his mother, Theresa, and Pilar shared. He tried to push the thought from his mind. "I wish I'd never told you about those dreams," Ethan groaned. "They don't mean anything. Besides, it's not the same thing."

"No, man. Don't pull that crap with me. Believe me, I was the king of denial for a long time when it came to Whitney, so you can't kid a kidder."

Ethan shook his head. "But you know some of what happened before the wedding, the things I found out. It just doesn't make sense that I would continue to think of her."

"The reason you think about her is that you ain't convinced that Theresa is the bad guy in all this. Somethin' holds you back."

"But all the evidence..."

"Did you ever really ask Theresa about this so-called evidence? Ever get her take on it?"

"Why? So she could just lie her way out of it?"

"Lord knows Theresa wasn't 'little miss perfect,' but she certainly wasn't a pariah, either. From the time I was a kid, I had to have a good instinct about people and know who I could trust and who I couldn't. And I'm tellin' you that the red flag didn't go up where Theresa was concerned. Somethin' about the whole thing just doesn't sit right with me. You never did tell me the whole story. All I know is that you think Theresa did somethin' bad, you cut her from your life, and you have had regrets about the way you've treated her ever since."

"Have you ever heard the saying, 'Shame on you, you fooled me once. Shame on me, you fooled me twice.'? I just don't want to fall into that trap again, but I'm not sure how to dig myself out of it."

Chad frowned. Sometimes talking to Ethan was like talking to a brick wall. He knew he'd make about as much progress trying to converse with the wall. "I guess I had you pegged wrong, my friend. I thought you were man enough to admit when you were wrong and do somethin' about it."

"And how 'manly' would it be of me if I skipped out on my wife and my marriage vows?"

"If I thought you were a happily married man, I would never encourage you to pursue this, but can you honestly tell me you're happy?"

Ethan opened his mouth to respond, but stopped when he heard a knock on the door. Saved by the proverbial bell.

"Come in," Ethan called out.

The door slowly opened and Gwen peeked around the corner. "Do you have a few minutes?" she asked.

"Um, sure. Just let me finish up this call," Ethan said. Gwen walked in and shut the door behind her while Ethan turned his attention back to the computer screen. "Listen, I need to go. I'll see you around 4:00."

"Right. Remember what I said, Ethan."

Ethan looked over at his wife who was staring out the window and hesitated. "I will, Chad."

The two friends disconnected the call, and Ethan focused his attention on Gwen. She continued staring out the window with her arms crossed. Without turning to look at her husband she asked, "So have you and Chad been talking about Theresa?"

"Yes," Ethan replied simply.

Gwen was shocked, and she knew it registered on her features. She'd had a strong suspicion that her husband and Chad were in cahoots when it came to Theresa, but for him to actually admit that they had been talking about Theresa was an entirely different matter. If he felt bold enough to admit to it, was he also feeling bold enough to leave her for Theresa?

"I see," she replied simply. She fell silent, as did her husband. Finally, she turned to look at Ethan, trying to summon all of her courage to ask the question she knew could potentially change her entire life. "Ethan, are you having an affair with Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald?" Gwen asked. "Are you leaving me for her?"

"Of course not, Gwen!" he exclaimed reaching out to touch her arm. "I wouldn't hurt you in that way," Ethan said, trying to soothe her frayed nerves.

She jerked away from him. "But you _were_ with her last night, weren't you?"

Ethan took a deep breath. "I was with her, but it's not what you think."

"Unbelievable!" Gwen snarled, her eyes flaring with anger. "I called her house last night looking for you, but I'm sure you know that already. I'm sure you and Theresa had a good laugh at my expense."

"If you'll just listen, I'll tell you everything that happened," Ethan said, trying to keep his voice calm.

Gwen tapped her foot. "This had better be good, Ethan Crane."

"Are you sure you're ready to listen? It just sounds to me that all you want to do is hurl accusations right now, Gwen."

"Oh, excuse me. My husband was at the home of a woman who tried to ruin our relationship, I was lied to about this, but I'm supposed to be understanding. Right. That's realistic," Gwen said, her voice dripping in sarcasm.

"Dammit, Gwen! What do you want from me?" Ethan asked, exasperation evident in his tone.

Tears filled her eyes. "The truth, Ethan. Don't I deserve at least that much?"

"Yes, Gwen, you do. I'm just afraid that you aren't going to like everything I have to say."

"Just tell me, Ethan."

"Last night when you went to your parents' house, I decided to go see Chad at Brazen. I just wanted to hang out with him and speak with him. He mentioned seeing Theresa there that night with a man, a man who seemed like a player. I believe Chad's words were 'This guy could charm the rattle off a rattlesnake.' Naturally, I was concerned."

"Oh, _naturally_."

"Think about it, Gwen. Despite everything you think of Theresa, she hasn't had much experience with men. And when Chuck died in that horrible accident, it left her vulnerable. I just didn't want to see her make a mistake she would regret."

"Please, Ethan! Don't you know a setup when you see one? It's obvious to me that Chad and Theresa were playing a game with you, and you fell right into their trap. If Theresa is as broken hearted and innocent as she would have people to believe, why would she be going out with a known player? It doesn't make any sense to me." Gwen continued, "If you ask me, she plays up Chuck's death for her own benefit. 'Oh, poor Theresa.' How tragic for her."

Ethan thought to Theresa's reaction each time Chuck was mentioned and how Theresa still wore Chuck's engagement ring. She became so reflective, so melancholy at the mere mention of Chuck. Perhaps the wounds weren't still raw, but they were tender. Ethan knew that if her behavior was a facade, it would have cracked a long time ago.

"When did you become so cold?"

"Oh, just about the time that Theresa started to insinuate herself into our lives. She almost destroyed us, Ethan. Though to hear you speak, you are still her defender. Perhaps you would have preferred for things to turn out differently with us." With that, Gwen turned and walked out the office.

Ethan sat at his desk, picked up a file folder full of papers, and tossed it to the floor. Papers were strewn about.

"Mr. Crane, your ten o'clock appointment is here," Julia, Ethan's secretary, said over the intercom.

Looking at the mess in his office, Ethan muttered, "This is going to be a long day."

_Am I too late? Was Mother right?_ Gwen leaned her head against the steering wheel of her car. _Why is everything falling apart like this? _

She felt panic rising in her heart._ No. Act, Gwen. Don't react_. And she knew it was time to make sure that her interests were protected, no matter what.

With new resolve, she started the engine of her car, a plan formulated in her mind. She turned on the radio and hummed a tune, finding the clouds were lifting over her mood. And Gwen knew that by the time she was done with Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald, she would wish she had never been born.


	23. Chapter 23

Author's Note: In the summer of 2000 when _Passions_ was still in its early stages, I absolutely adored the relationship between Ethan Crane and Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. I discovered the wonderful world of fanfiction and even had my own fanfiction site, and this story was born through my enthusiasm for this show, this couple, and storytelling. This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, and though there are aspects of the story that I am tempted to change in 2010, I won't because the original (flaws and all) holds a special place in my heart.

I previously posted _The Most Carefully Laid Plans _on my site, Once Upon a Time, as well as on Turtle Run and Coffeerooms. It is no longer in any of those places and hasn't been for quite awhile, though I do still get e-mails from people from time to time wondering where they can find a copy. So in celebration of the tenth anniversary of this story, I decided to post it here.

Obviously, I do not own the _Passions _characters found within the story, though the original characters are my own. Nor am I affiliated in any way with _Passions. _No money is being made from this story. Believe me-if I did control _Passions,_ the show would've gone much differently.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Three: "Persistence"**

"Earth to Theresa. Come in, Theresa!" Whitney said as she waved her hand in front of Theresa's face.

Theresa shook her head, coming back to her surroundings. The workers were completing work on her boutique, and she had been studying some fabric swatches. Yet her mind hadn't been on what she was doing. "Sorry, Whit. I didn't see you there."

"That much is obvious. Where were you just now?"

"I was just thinking," Theresa replied.

Whitney shook her head and smiled. Some things never changed. "Daydreaming is more like it. Even after all this time, you're still a dreamer."

Theresa swallowed hard. "I've given up on that. Nothing good can come from it."

Whitney found that difficult to believe. She couldn't even imagine Theresa without stars in her eyes. What would make her friend say something like that? "Whoa. It sounds as though something has happened. What is it, Theresa?"

"I...I had this dream last night, Whit. It was so real! I just don't know what to think."

"Well, spill it. Maybe I can help out."

Theresa groaned. "I don't think anyone or anything can help me."

Realization, mingled with dread, hit Whitney. She crossed her arms. "Theresa, is this about Ethan?"

Theresa remained silent and averted her gaze.

"Theresa, don't even go there," Whitney warned her friend. "You know what happened last time, and it took you a long time to get over him. Besides, you already know that Gwen has her eye on you. She's barely tolerating you as it is!"

"Believe me. You aren't telling me anything that I haven't already considered. But coming back here...," her voice trailed off before adding, "I don't know how I'm going to do it, Whit."

"Back up, Theresa."

Images flooded Theresa's mind, remnants of the dream she had; being in Ethan's arms, feeling his kiss, seeing her mother's disappointment and Chuck's hurt. She felt chills run up and down her spine. "I had this dream last night, Whit, and it was so real. I was dancing with someone. I couldn't see his face at first, but I knew it was the man I loved. Everything was perfect. It was just the two of us, no interruptions, no complications. Then, when I told him that I loved him, I looked up at him, and it was Ethan."

"Here we go again," Whitney interjected.

"No, I told him that it wasn't right. That's when Gwen showed up, taunting me. Rebecca Hotchkiss was there, and so was my mother. And then Chuck showed up. Whit, he was so hurt that I was with Ethan. He told me I had betrayed him."

"That doesn't sound like Chuck," Whitney said.

"No, it doesn't. Chuck was a good man. But being with Ethan would be a betrayal to Chuck's memory. Don't you see?"

"What I see is this. Ethan is a married man, and being with him would be a betrayal of his wedding vows, but I don't think Chuck would begrudge you any happiness...even if it were with Ethan. But Theresa, there has to be someone else out there for you; someone who won't complicate your life the way Ethan Crane would. What about Drew Winthrop? How was your date with him?"

Walking to the counter, Theresa placed several swatches of fabric on it . "I had a good time, but it isn't like that with us. Drew is terribly handsome and just as confident in his abilities to charm women. I can't explain it, but he makes me curious. Yet I don't have romantic feelings for him. I could see us eventually becoming good friends. That's all."

"Is that because you still have feelings for Ethan?"

"I didn't think I did, but now..."

"Now you aren't so sure?"

"Whit, Ethan came to my house last night to check up on me. Chad had apparently told him that I left with Drew and that things looked serious between us."

"So Ethan showed up? Unreal." Whitney felt her stomach drop. She had a horrible feeling that Theresa was headed for more heartache, and she didn't want to see it happen.

"I know. But seeing him brought up so many feelings and memories of better times with us. I miss that, Whit. It's hard to look at him and try not to feel anything. I know my feelings for him don't have the right to exist, but I can't help it."

"Kill them, Theresa."

"How? The way you tried to kill your feelings for Chad? You, of all people, know that it doesn't work that way."

"Grrrr. Chad did this! He's trying to play matchmaker...again!" Whitney groaned.

"I had the same thought," Theresa admitted. "After all, he knew that nothing was going on with Drew and me."

"He's definitely going to be hearing from me about this," Whitney said shaking her head.

_"Whitney, olvidemos lo pasado."_

"What?"

"Let bygones be bygones. Chad was doing what he thought was the right thing, even if I wish he wouldn't interfere. The best way to dissuade such behavior is to show him that regardless of how much he throws Ethan and me together, we're never going to _be _together."

"That's the first sensible thing I've heard you say today, Theresa. Look, honey, I know it's hard to be here and see him, but after the newness wears off, it won't be so hard."

Theresa frowned. "Is that all you think this is, Whitney? Newness? Am I really so fickle in your eyes?"

Whitney took a deep breath. "I...I didn't mean it like that, Theresa. All of this scares me, though."

"What do you mean?"

"After Ethan married Gwen, you were devastated. Beyond devastated, even. I don't think I know a word for it. You've fought so hard to get to this point, Theresa. It just scares me that you might allow these feelings to overtake your better judgment."

"I already know that I can't allow anything to come of this, Whit. After the wedding is over, I'm not going to see him again. Hopefully, I won't even see him until the wedding, for that matter."

Whitney was visibly relieved. "To be quite honest, I'm surprised Gwen hasn't forbidden Ethan from being part of the wedding party, especially considering that you are going to be my maid of honor."

"Are you sure she knows?" Theresa asked.

"How could she not know? The wedding isn't very far away, only a few weeks."

"Gwen knows that Ethan is Chad's best friend. I don't think she would try to interfere. You better believe that she'll be keeping a close watch on everything that goes on, but interfere? I don't think Ethan would allow it."

"I'm just afraid that this wedding is going to be awkward all around," Whitney said, biting her bottom lip.

"Your mother will be flying in from California?"

"Yeah. Things have been tense with us, but she would never miss my wedding. I'm just worried how she and Daddy will react to each other, and how Mom will react to seeing Cynthia and the baby."

Theresa reached out and took her friend's hand. "Everything will work out. The one thing that binds your parents together is their love for you and Simone. I know they won't do anything to take away from your day."

Whitney smiled weakly. "I guess you're right."

"So have you spoken to Simone lately?"

"Just the other night, as a matter of fact."

"How is she doing with everything?"

"You mean with the fact that I'm marrying Chad?" Whitney clarified. "She's alright with it. I know that our relationship was difficult for her at first, but she's met someone, and she seems very happy."

Theresa smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. Simone is one of the most loyal people I know, and any guy would be fortunate to have her love."

Whitney nodded. "So, are you going to be able to come for a fitting today? Mrs. Moreau has your designs ready."

"Sure. I'd already planned on it."

"Great. How does 3:30 sound to you?"

"That should work fine," Theresa replied.

"Okay. I need to take off, but I'll see you later today."

"Absolutely. I'll walk you out," Theresa offered.

Theresa walked Whitney to the door, and as Whit was getting ready to walk out, they saw a deliveryman come to the door with a huge bouquet of exotic flowers.

"Delivery for Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald," the man said.

Whitney looked at Theresa, worry crossing her features. She prayed the flowers weren't from Ethan. Theresa didn't need the complication in her life, and if it came down to it, Whitney was prepared to tell that to Ethan.

"I am she," Theresa said. "You can put those on the counter."

The man did as Theresa suggested and took out a clipboard. "I just need you to sign for these, please."

After Theresa signed the paper, she reached for her purse, but the man stopped her. "The tip's already been taken care of. It seems that someone is quite fond of you," he said with a wink before leaving.

Theresa looked at the flowers and saw an attached note. She hesitated.

"Come on, Theresa. Aren't you going to open it?" Whitney asked.

"Um, sure," Theresa replied before detaching the envelope. Carefully, she opened it and smiled when she read the enclosed note.

_Theresa,_

_It seems my persistence paid off. You were definitely worth the effort. Looking forward to tomorrow._

_Drew _

"Well?" Whitney asked impatiently.

"It's from Drew," Theresa said passing Whitney the note.

Whitney read aloud, "'It seems my persistence paid off. You were definitely worth the effort. Looking forward to tomorrow.'" She looked up from the note and at her friend. "Theresa, did you sleep with him? Because it sounds like it. Are you sure there's not more to you and Drew Winthrop?"

"Whitney! You know better than that!" Theresa exclaimed. "I guess you just had to be there, that's all. When I first met Drew, I told him that he was one of the most persistent people I've ever met, but even Satan has persistence."

"Ouch, Theresa!"

"Well, I couldn't help myself. He was asking to be brought down a notch or two."

"Sounds as though he still got his way. You did, after all, go out with him."

"We've already been through this. I had my reasons. I'm really curious about him."

"Curious, huh? So _that's_ what they call it nowadays," Whitney said with a smile.

Theresa playfully hit her friend in the arm. "Whitney Russell! What has come over you?"

"I guess I've just been around you too much. It's good to have you back, Theresa." Whitney squeezed her hand before heading out the door.

* * *

Theresa might have wanted Whitney to let go of the fact Chad was interfering, but Whit couldn't; not when her best friend's happiness was at stake. She walked into Brazen and immediately saw Chad. It was time to get this matter straightened out once and for all.

"Hey, Baby," Chad said kissing Whitney lightly on the mouth. Her coldness toward him was evident, though. "What is it?"

"Chad, I know what you're trying to do, and it has to stop."

"Nah, Whitney. If I was tryin' to get you all hot and bothered, I woulda kissed you a little differently," he said with a grin.

"That's not what I mean, and you know it. Leave Ethan and Theresa alone!"

"Wow. What's brought this on?"

"You know exactly what's brought this on. You were trying to play matchmaker with them."

"It doesn't take a lot of doin'. Those two, they're drawn together. They just need a little help to get them movin' in the right direction."

"In the right direction? Listen to yourself! Ethan and Theresa are never going to be together! Ethan is married to Gwen. Besides, he's the heir to the Crane Empire, and with that comes specific obligations. I seriously doubt that Julian and Ivy Crane would allow a marriage to take place between Ethan and Theresa. Regardless of how successful Theresa has become in the fashion industry, she'll always be the housekeeper's daughter. People like the Cranes and the Hotchkisses don't let outsiders into their social circle!"

"You're leavin' somethin' out of the equation."

"What's that?" Whitney asked impatiently.

"Love. L-O-V-E. That's what Ethan and Theresa have with each other, but everyone's been so concerned about appearances, they've forgotten that simple fact. Try as they might, they aren't gonna be able to stay away from each other."

"They would if you would just stop pushing!"

"Whit, I understand where you're comin' from, but I'm not backin' off. Not when I see both of them achin' for the other."

"Chad, Theresa is only going to get her heart broken...again. Ethan is never going to divorce Gwen for her, and Theresa's not the type of person to be involved in an adulterous relationship. You know how she is; she's a dreamer. She wants the house with the white picket fence. She wants a husband and children. Ethan cannot give her what she wants _or_ what she needs."

"Who made it up to _you _to decide what Theresa wants or needs? Let her make her own decisions. It seems to me that you're just as guilty in tryin' to influence this situation."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what I said."

"Look, unlike you, I'm protecting my friends from heartache. Maybe if you weren't so concerned about being right all the time, you could see it."

"Who says that this time it will lead to heartache? There are so many things we don't know 'bout what went on between those two, but whatever finally prompted Ethan to marry Gwen, it wasn't pretty."

"And this supports your point how?" Whitney asked.

"Just think. Even though Ethan was furious with Theresa, even though he felt lied to and betrayed, he's never stopped thinkin' about her. Now that's powerful. And Theresa though she tries to deny it, I know she cares for him. It's obvious just by lookin' at her whenever his name is mentioned. So if they can have feelings this strong after everything that happened, doesn't that tell you somethin'?"

"Maybe that's true, but Ethan's never going to trust Theresa again. There's nothing that she'll _ever_ be able to do to fully have that again."

"I know I've said this before, but I'll say it again. I just think that somethin' went down that we don't know 'bout. I just get the strangest feelin' 'bout that entire 'supposed' thing."

"Chad, Theresa lied to Ethan for over a year. Why would Ethan's reaction seem strange to you?"

Chad took a deep breath. "Ethan loved Theresa. I mean he _really _loved her. Now I know he would be upset to hear that Theresa had lied about being involved with Chuck. And sure, his pride would be hurt a little, too. But to be so upset that he would react the way he did? Nah. I'm tellin' you, there's somethin' else to it. Somethin' else we don't know."

"Well, it's really none of our business," Whitney said. "Besides, all of that is in the past. It's probably best if it stays there."

"Whitney, I just feel I should tell you that this isn't somethin' that I'm going to leave alone. You and I have watched Ethan for the last five years. He isn't a happy man, but if Theresa can bring happiness back to his life and if he can bring happiness back to Theresa's life, who are we to stand in the way?"

* * *

Theresa looked at the flowers; they were truly exquisite. Lightly, she touched an orchid in the arrangement.

The scent from the flowers was intoxicating. She closed her eyes, and for a moment could almost imagine that she was back in Bermuda with Ethan. It had been a wonderful trip, though at times, she felt as though he was trying to put her off. Of course, she knew now that it was because he had developed feelings for her, feeling that scared him.

They hadn't planned to stay overnight, but fate had interceded with the storm preventing their departure to the mainland. It had proved to be a mesmerizing time, from shopping, to dining in the amazing restaurant at the hotel, and dancing under the stars. Yet her favorite time had been spent standing on the deck with Ethan, looking at the ocean. They'd been at such ease, but singularly aware of each other at the same time.

It had all been perfect until Julian Crane had showed up. Theresa felt foolish for her naivete. At the time, it never occurred to her that Mr. Crane's actions were advancements; that he was insinuating that should she become his mistress, he would provide a luxurious lifestyle for her. She cringed when she thought about it.

_Were you ever a decent person, Mr. Crane?_ Theresa wondered. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, despite everything. _I'm sure you've always been a little roguish. Perhaps you were even like Drew when you were younger. A ladies' man, but pretty harmless._

The thought brought her back to here and now. She was still utterly perplexed by Drew. Sometimes he came off as so conceited, but it was apparent that he also had a selfless side. Otherwise, why would he have helped the youth center as he did? She couldn't help but wonder about him.

"What's your story, Drew Winthrop?"

* * *

Drew smiled. Everything was working out much better than he had expected. Though Theresa wasn't fawning over him the way other women did, he could tell that he held her attention. That would work to his advantage, particularly as he implemented the next step of his plan.

He took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell to the Crane Mansion. It had been several years since he had been there, and standing in front of the imposing house gave him the oddest sensation. He couldn't quite categorize it. It wasn't exactly nervousness, nor was it sheer excitement. Perhaps it was more like anticipation; anticipation for what was to come, not in the next few minutes, but what would transpire over the next few weeks. He knew it would be delicious, to say the least.

Drew waited a moment, but no one answered. _Strange_. He range the doorbell again. Finally, he heard movement of the latch.

The door swung open, and Drew's eyes shined with amusement as he saw Ivy Crane standing there. "Opening your own door, Mother? What_ has_ this world come to?" he teased.

Ivy slapped her hand over her gaping mouth. To say she was surprised was an understatement. It had been so long...

"Andrew Winthrop Crane, get in here!" Ivy said, throwing her arms around her son.


	24. Chapter 24

Author's Note: In the summer of 2000 when _Passions_ was still in its early stages, I absolutely adored the relationship between Ethan Crane and Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. I discovered the wonderful world of fanfiction and even had my own fanfiction site, and this story was born through my enthusiasm for this show, this couple, and storytelling. This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, and though there are aspects of the story that I am tempted to change in 2010, I won't because the original (flaws and all) holds a special place in my heart.

I previously posted _The Most Carefully Laid Plans _on my site, Once Upon a Time, as well as on Turtle Run and Coffeerooms. It is no longer in any of those places and hasn't been for quite awhile, though I do still get e-mails from people from time to time wondering where they can find a copy. So in celebration of the tenth anniversary of this story, I decided to post it here.

Obviously, I do not own the _Passions _characters found within the story, though the original characters are my own. Nor am I affiliated in any way with _Passions. _No money is being made from this story. Believe me-if I did control _Passions,_ the show would've gone much differently.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Four: "Common and Respectable"**

Rebecca Hotchkiss smoothed her perfectly coifed blond hair before entering Theresa's boutique. It wasn't open to the public yet, but that wasn't about to stop her. She had a few things she wanted to discuss with the little gold-digger before letting too much time pass. Besides, it was obvious to her that because Gwen was not protecting her own interests, it was going to be up to her.

She still frowned when she thought of the conversation she and her daughter had the night before. At times, she was amazed that she could have a daughter who was so utterly oblivious to what went on around her. Gwen was still convinced that Ethan would not betray her, and that Theresa was her only threat, but Rebecca knew better. Ethan was a man, like any other. If temptation presented itself, he would act on it. And Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald certainly was tempting, in a _common_ way, of course.

Rebecca wrinkled her nose. Theresa was like a proverbial onion on a hamburger that her husband so enjoyed eating. Eating onions might seem like a good idea at the time, but what a wicked aftertaste they had.

Still, Rebecca was determined not to the let the situation progress that far. If Gwen hadn't managed to put the fear of God into Theresa, she was going to. Between the two of them, Theresa would never have any peace.

Looking around, she saw that Theresa was not in sight. Perhaps she was in the back. Rebecca was about to make her way to the back of the store when something caught her attention. A large bouquet of beautiful, exotic flowers sat in a vase on the counter. Her eyes narrowed. _Could those flowers be from Ethan?_ She had to find out.

Quietly, she walked to the counter, and to her delight, she found an envelope on the surface next to the vase. Deftly, she opened the envelope and read the contents.

_Theresa,_

_It seems my persistence paid off. You were definitely worth the wait. Looking forward to tomorrow._

_Drew_

Rebecca grinned. "Well, what have we here? It seems you aren't as pure as the driven snow the way you would have others, particularly Ethan, think. Hhhmmm. I wonder what he would think about this."

"I don't know. Why don't you ask him?" Theresa piped in.

Rebecca started a little, then inwardly cursed herself for allowing the young woman to sneak up on her. She was usually more crafty than that and never, ever, got caught. At least, she hadn't until just then.

Casually, Rebecca returned the note to the envelope and placed it on the counter. "I couldn't resist," she stated.

"Obviously," Theresa replied.

"I'm glad you're here, though. I wanted to speak with you."

"Why am I not surprised? Well, let's get it over with," Theresa said with a sigh.

Rebecca furrowed her brow. She wasn't used to such nonchalant reactions. It took the wind out of what she had prepared to say. Well, perhaps she could simply ease her way into her purpose. "Are you enjoying your return to Harmony?"

"Yes. It is nice to be around my friends and family again."

"Of course. To be on familiar terms with people again; it must be exhilarating. I recall my own return to Harmony some years back after going to finishing school and to the university. I was eager to renew and strengthen old acquaintances. Though I have learned over the years that sometimes, it's better to let things remain in the past." Rebecca looked at Theresa meaningfully. "I hope you've learned the same thing. After all, I would simply hate to see you get _hurt_ because of a misstep."

"A 'misstep'?" Theresa's jaw clenched. "This certainly is rich. Some things never change. It seems as though the last time we spoke, you were threatening me. And what are you doing now? Still spewing threats."

Rebecca smiled, but the smile did not reach her eyes. They remained cold and calculating. "No, no, no, Theresa. You misunderstand me. Why would I need to proffer threats to the housekeeper's daughter? I merely offer you advice. You would be best served if you kept your distance from my daughter _and_ her husband."

"Why are you and Gwen so afraid?"

"Afraid? Of you? Hardly. It would just be such a shame to see Ethan slumming with you. And you, dear, would just be left out in the cold. Men like Ethan don't leave their wives for women like you. Be a little smarter, won't you?"

"And who said I wanted Ethan in the first place? Though the way you're talking, it seems as though all I would need to do is wiggle my little finger." Theresa shot back. "Be a little smarter, won't you?"

Rebecca laughed lightly. "Is it _possible_? Could you have actually developed a _backbone_? My, oh my, this does get all the more interesting! I must admit that I do much prefer this fighting spirit of yours to that quivering little mouse you used to be. Your mother has taught you well, I see. Of course, I do hope that she has taught you more from her vast array of skills. You know, the usual. Scrubbing toilets, mopping floors, peeling potatoes. My own mother used to tell me that it never hurts to have something to fall back on, especially if something were to happen and your business venture did not work out."

"And what skills do you have to speak of, Mrs. Hotchkiss? It's such _hard_ work to be the perfect trophy wife and bully."

"Careful, Theresa."

"No. _You _be careful, Mrs. Hotchkiss. My mother has more integrity and strength than_ you _could ever dream of."

"Pity that her daughter lacks both," Rebecca said.

"That's fine. Take all the shots at me you want; I'm sure I deserve some of them. But don't you _ever_ belittle my mother again."

Rebecca stifled a yawn. "Theresa, this is growing rather tiresome."

"I can respect the fact that you want to look out for your daughter, but has it ever occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, I'm not after Ethan?"

"I would be foolish to believe such a thing," Rebecca stated.

Theresa shook her head. "Believe what you want. Just know that I want the past to remain where it is; in the past. I can't afford to be involved with Ethan, for my own reasons. Not for yours."

"Just so long as we're clear on what is and isn't acceptable," Rebecca said. "There's simply nothing more disgraceful than a woman trying to reach above her station."

"I don't know about _that._ I've always found it to be disgraceful when people resort to petty insults and threats to try to intimidate others. There's the door, Mrs. Hotchkiss. Get on the other side of it."

Rebecca smiled. She'd certainly managed to ruffle Theresa's feathers, and though the young woman might not admit it, Rebecca knew she would consider the 'advice' she had offered.

"Have a lovely day, Theresa." With that, she started for the door, but not before removing an orchid from the floral arrangement to take with her.

Theresa's mind was spinning as she watched Rebecca Hotchkiss leave. "Oooh! I cannot stand that woman! She and her daughter are two of a kind!" She wanted to believe that their threats had been just that threats. Still, she had seen Gwen's reaction a long time ago when she was backed into a corner. She was a woman who came out fighting, and Theresa had the distinct impression that Gwen inherited that instinct from her mother.

_They have reason to distrust you, _Theresa reminded herself. _Try not to be too hard on them. _Regardless of that, Theresa didn't appreciate the threats. The problem was that she knew that Gwen and Rebecca had the ability to make good on those threats.

Why did everything seem to go back to Ethan? Theresa knew she should have a million-and-one regrets for once loving him, and in many ways she did have regrets for how she acted. Yet she still wouldn't change the emotions that had once been there so strongly for anything. Losing Ethan had been one of the most difficult events of her life, but it taught her so much about herself, and in the process, she grew up. She knew she wouldn't be the person she was today if it hadn't been for Ethan. No, she wouldn't have traded that time for the world.

_Ethan._ Her mind lingered on his name. She had so many wonderful memories of him. It was a time of her life when the whole world seemed to be hers for the taking. It was her oyster, and anything was possible.

She knew growing up was a necessary part of life, but she couldn't help but think of the naive, starry-eyed dreamer she'd once been.

_Ethan._ Theresa could see him perfectly in her mind. He had always been incredible, and he still was. He was so handsome...he was so funny when he let his guard down...he was wonderfully charming...he was amazingly considerate..._he was not hers to dream about_. Theresa was jolted back to reality.

_This had to stop! I am_ not i_nterested in Ethan Crane. I'm not. Really._

"Okay, Theresa. Think about other things." Whitney and Chad's wedding would be coming up... Luis and Sheridan's baby would be arriving soon... Serendipity would soon have its grand opening... She was making new friends...

Theresa smiled when she thought of Drew Winthrop. What an inauspicious start they'd had. Yet something about him, something she couldn't quite put her finger on, drew her to him. She was completely and utterly curious about him and captivated by his mystique, to a certain extent. She sensed in him a deepness that he rarely let other people see, but why was he did he try to hide it?

_What lies beneath the surface, Drew Winthrop?_

Pushing those thoughts from her mind, she looked around her boutique. It still filled her with a sense of awe. When she'd been a young girl, this was precisely what she had dreamed of. Now it was coming to fruition. "I won't see everything that I've worked so hard for come apart!" she promised herself. "If Gwen and her mother want a fight, they'll have one."

* * *

Ethan Crane opened the door to Julian's private study and walked in. Immediately, he saw his father scramble to hide something behind his back.

"Good God! Doesn't anyone ever knock?" Julian mumbled.

"I'm sorry. I just thought you wanted to discuss the situation with the Merritt Corporation immediately. I brought the paperwork you needed," Ethan said as he near the door.

Julian chuckled, trying to regain his composure. Running his fingers over the silky material of his latest paramour's scarf, he stuffed the thin material under the cushion on his chair. The last thing he wanted was a lecture from his sanctimonious son. Though it occurred to him that, in all truth, Ethan didn't have a leg to stand on, so to speak.

"Come in, my boy. Come in. You know me. I was startled, that's all."

"That much was apparent. So what are you hiding this time, Father?" Ethan asked as he took the seat across from Julian.

"Less than you're hiding, I assure you," Julian replied with a wink.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Ethan said shifting in his seat.

"No. Of course not. Though I'm sure Gwen would have more than enough information to fill in your blanks, as it were."

Ethan grimaced. Could the day get any worse? Enough was enough! "Just for the record, I am not having an affair with Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald, nor do I intend to do so."

"Who said anything about having an affair with the scrumptious Theresa?" Julian asked.

Ethan opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it. He passed a dossier across the desk to Julian. "Now, about the Merritt Corporation as you can see, I've indicated that we can expect to see profits increase by sixty percent over the next three years."

"Ho hum," Julian replied dramatically as he exhaled. "You know, it isn't often we have these father-son moments. Let's make the best of it, shall we? Business can wait."

"I have an extremely busy day ahead of me yet, Father. Business _can't _wait."

"Tsk. Tsk, Ethan. You should know by now that I will keep your secret. Lord knows I've kept enough in my lifetime."

Ethan frowned. Julian had almost cost Sheridan her happiness with his so-called secrets. Keeping secrets caused nothing but misery.

Immediately, Ethan felt guilty. He'd certainly kept his share of secrets. In fact, he was keeping a rather sizeable secret from Julian at that moment. _I have to_, he reminded himself, _for Mother's sake. There's no telling what Father or Grandfather would do to her if they knew the truth._ For most of his life, Ethan had been shielded to the truth of Crane severity, but Sheridan's experiences in trying to break free from her family's influence and interference opened Ethan's eyes to just what the Cranes were capable of doing.

"I'm not like you," Ethan replied quietly.

Julian grimaced. "No, I suppose you're not. Your mother has you trained like a favorite pet."

"Don't speak ill of Mother...or of me," Ethan said, his voice edgy with a warning.

"Calm down, my boy. Isn't this situation ironic? How the gods must be laughing at us now."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, here we are; father and son, but as different as night and day."

"You do have one son who takes after you, Father."

"Yes, but he's not here, is he?" Julian replied. "Perhaps after sowing those wild oats of his, he'll return home, ready to join in running the family business. I must admit that it would please me greatly."

"I wouldn't count on it," Ethan replied. "Andrew only seeks to please himself."

* * *

Ivy Crane led her son into the house. Drew had spent so little time there, he'd never really considered it home. Its austere exterior guarded an even more austere interior and family. It gave him the oddest sensation of entrapment. _This must be how men of the cloth feel upon entering seminary_, he mused to himself.

"Ethan is going to be so pleased to see you!" Ivy exclaimed as she looked at her second born child.

_Ethan. _Drew thought to himself. Even the way his mother said his brother's name demonstrated such blind adoration. Ethan was all she ever thought about. Wryly, Drew doubted Ivy had ever had the same deepness of feelings for him or his sisters. What was it about Ethan?

Still, he felt as though everything was going well. Initially, he wasn't entirely certain how he would be received by his mother. Though he took after Ivy Crane in appearance and coloring, he was very much his father's son in personality. This had caused its share of conflicts between them as his mother often wished that he could be more like his brother, more of what Ivy would want him to be.

"I don't know about that, Mother," Drew said walking to the mantle of the fireplace. He picked up a portrait of Ethan and Gwen. "Last time we saw each other, we quarreled. I was on the receiving end of the famous Ethan Crane responsibility lecture."

"Don't be hard on your brother, Andrew. He only wants what is best for you," Ivy said, trying to soothe her son.

Drew returned the photo to the mantle and looked at the other portraits which were displayed. A formal framed photo of his parents adorned the display area, as well as one of Grandfather Alistair, several of Ethan, and one of his sisters together. "How quaint," Drew commented. "Just a little piece of Americana. The family photos are so _touching_."

Ivy immediately noticed her son's caustic tone. "And if you'd stay in one place long enough, just think, you could be part of our quaint family tradition, as well."

"Touché."

Ivy reached out and touched her son's face. "It is good to see you, though. It's been a long time."

"Yes, it has."

"What made you decide to come back now?"

Drew looked around the room lazily. "I figured I was overdue. I've been around the world and back in the last few years, and it was time. Besides, I have a few things that needed my attention, and I could only take care of them from here."

"Like what?"

"Oh, just a little bit of this and that. Nothing to be concerned about."

"Well, regardless of why you're here, I'm glad that you are. Did you just arrive today?"

Casually, Drew put his hands in his pocket, a mannerism he'd employed since childhood whenever he was around his mother. "Actually, I arrived about a week ago."

Ivy frowned. "You've been in town an entire week, and you didn't bother to call? Did it ever occur to you that your _family_ might like to see you?"

Drew stifled a yawn. "You haven't seen me for three years, Mother. What was another week? Besides, I was busy."

"Too busy to contact us?" Ivy asked. Then she began to understand. _How typical_. Andrew had been busy with a woman...or women. Like father, like son.

She rolled her eyes, and her son recognized the look on her face.

"Come, come, Mother," Drew said with a grin on his face. "You know my social schedule."

"I know your lifestyle," Ivy corrected.

"I think perhaps all of that is about to change," Drew supplied.

"What does that mean? Have you met someone?"

"You could say that. She is a beautiful girl and a successful businesswoman."

Ivy groaned. "Last time you said you were interested in a 'successful business woman,' she turned out to be a Las Vegas showgirl."

Drew laughed. "Not this time, Mother. She's perfectly respectable. I think you'll be surprised. So, is Father around?"

"I think he might be in his study. To be perfectly honest, I haven't been paying much attention. After all, heaven forbid that I should trespass into his private domain."

"I see some things never change," Drew observed.

"Oh, we shouldn't even be talking about this," Ivy said with the wave of her hand. She knew her marital woes were not going to be solved by venting to her youngest son.

"Did I hear someone mention my name?" Julian Crane asked as he walked into the room.

He did a double take when he saw Drew. "Speak of the devil," he said laughing.

"Funny, the same thought crossed my mind," Drew said, clasping his father's outstretched hand. The bond between them was immediate.

As Ethan headed toward the door to leave, he could hear the commotion. What was going on? Rounding the corner into the living room, he was surprised to see his brother shaking hands with his father.

"Andrew!" Ethan exclaimed, approaching him. "I didn't realize you were here!"

"You could say that it's a new development," Drew replied.

Ivy linked her arm with Ethan.

"How long do you plan to stay?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Drew said. "It depends on a certain venture I am involved with right now."

"You mean a woman," Ethan clarified.

"You certainly know me."

Ivy looked at up at Ethan. "From what I hear, this woman is quite special."

"Really?" Ethan asked smiling. He would love to see his little brother settle down. He was convinced his brother had a good heart underneath it all. Still, he was, at times, dismayed by him.

Drew grinned and raised an eyebrow. "Absolutely. She's definitely something else. In fact, I just _know_ you're going to love her."


	25. Chapter 25

Author's Note: In the summer of 2000 when _Passions_ was still in its early stages, I absolutely adored the relationship between Ethan Crane and Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. I discovered the wonderful world of fanfiction and even had my own fanfiction site, and this story was born through my enthusiasm for this show, this couple, and storytelling. This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, and though there are aspects of the story that I am tempted to change in 2010, I won't because the original (flaws and all) holds a special place in my heart.

I previously posted _The Most Carefully Laid Plans _on my site, Once Upon a Time, as well as on Turtle Run and Coffeerooms. It is no longer in any of those places and hasn't been for quite awhile, though I do still get e-mails from people from time to time wondering where they can find a copy. So in celebration of the tenth anniversary of this story, I decided to post it here.

Obviously, I do not own the _Passions _characters found within the story, though the original characters are my own. Nor am I affiliated in any way with _Passions. _No money is being made from this story. Believe me-if I did control _Passions,_ the show would've gone much differently.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Five: "Play the Game"**

"Is it true, Ethan?" Gwen asked as she came into their bedroom.

Ethan looked up from his laptop computer, a look of concentration still etched on his features. "Hhhmmm?" he asked.

"I asked if it was true," Gwen replied smiling.

Ethan swallowed hard. What did Gwen think she knew? "Is what true?"

"That your brother is in town. What did you think I was talking about?"

Gwen couldn't help but notice the look of guilt that crossed Ethan's features. It made her wonder just what her husband thought she was talking about. She walked to where Ethan sat at his desk and stood behind him. Leaning over and putting her arms around him, she whispered in his ear, "Any other secrets I should know about?"

Ethan decided to play disingenuous. "Andrew's return wasn't intended as a secret. In fact, I didn't even know he was back until this afternoon."

"Pooh, Ethan. You aren't playing the game right," Gwen murmured.

"It's hard to play the game when you make up the rules as we go along," Ethan said standing and moving away from Gwen's grasp.

"I see you're still angry about our earlier conversation," Gwen noted.

"How did you expect me to feel?"

"Ethan, it's alright. I've forgiven you," Gwen replied.

"Oh, you've forgiven me? How kind of you, Gwen. Do you notice a pattern here? It just seems to me that when you get angry, you let everyone around you know it. But after you're done 'expressing' yourself, you expect other people to act as if nothing happened. Just because you're over it doesn't mean that I am."

Gwen ran her tongue over her lips. She stepped toward Ethan and ran her hands down the front of his shirt, resting them at his waist before tugging at his shirt and untucking it in the process.

"Gwen." His tone was one of warning.

"Sshhh," she replied as she deftly began to unbutton his shirt. Lightly, her fingers traced the contours of his chest and began to descend even lower.

Ethan grabbed her wrists as gently as he could but with enough force that he stopped her movements. "Enough."

Dejected, Gwen pulled away and turned her back to him. "Are you sure there's nothing else you want to tell me?" she asked.

"I've already said all I have to say."

"This is about Theresa, isn't it?"

"No, Gwen. It's about you and your insecurities."

"My insecurities," Gwen repeated. "Why Ethan? You've never given me any reason to feel secure. Whether you admit it or not, everything is about Theresa. Everything you think. Everything you do. I'm tired of it! I want the old Ethan Crane back! I want my husband back!"

"Gwen, I never went anywhere," Ethan replied quietly and gently.

She turned around to face him, tears streaming down her face. "I wish I could believe that. I truly do. But six years ago a stranger came into our lives; insinuated herself, really. And since then, things haven't been the same for us. I know you dream about her, Ethan. I've heard you call out her name in your sleep."

"Gwen, I..."

"No, let me finish. Ethan, I need to know that you love me. That you aren't going to fall for her tricks again. She used you! You know that beyond a shadow of a doubt! So why can't you believe in us?"

I still believe in you. The words seemed to come from nowhere, but they lingered in Ethan's mind.

"Ethan?" Gwen asked when he remained quiet.

"We've been together for most of our lives, Gwen. It's always been you and me, and it always will be."

"Then why do I feel as though there are three people in this marriage?"

"Let it go, Gwen," Ethan said gently as he took her hand in his.

"I...I want to, Ethan. I really do. I just don't know how," she said, her voice quivering.

Ethan sighed. After the way he'd been acting the last few weeks, she had every reason to be upset with him and even to wonder if something was going on between him and Theresa. And what had he done? He did nothing but make Gwen feel as though she was the one in the wrong for trying to fight for their marriage.

"God, I'm sorry Gwen. I don't know what's wrong with me!" He pulled her to him, and she rested her head against his chest. "Please listen to me. I trust you. I know you've always been completely honest with me. That is only one of the things I love about you. I could never be with someone who lies and manipulates. Don't you see? I could never be with Theresa. I admit that at one time, I had very strong feelings for her and even wondered if she and I...," his voice trailed off. He found his voice again. "But it was more the idea of Theresa than Theresa herself. I thought she was someone that she isn't."

Gwen bit her bottom lip and felt a momentary lapse of guilt and even fear. What she did ruined Theresa in Ethan's eyes and made him more determined to marry the woman he had been promised to. But she knew Ethan never would have married her if he knew the truth; if she had been truthful to her husband. If he ever found out, that would be the end. Gwen had no doubts.

Stop! her mind screamed. What is wrong with you? You're feeling guilty about Theresa? She was trying to steal Ethan away from you! She got what she deserved and she still deserves anything else you can dish out at her.

Gwen looked up at Ethan and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Show me, Ethan. Show me that you love me," she whispered huskily.

_I still believe in you._

Ethan swallowed hard. After everything that had happened, why couldn't he get Theresa out of his mind? He was with the woman he loved his wife. Why did memories of Theresa keep resurfacing?

"Ethan?" Gwen questioned after seeing him pause.

He had to forget. He had to.

Saying nothing, his lips found hers.

* * *

As Theresa stepped out of her car, she smoothed her dress. Surprisingly, she was looking forward to seeing Drew. A small smile crept onto her face. He was so different from anyone she'd ever met. Something about him captivated her imagination.

Surveying her surroundings, it occurred to Theresa that it had been a long time since she'd been to the Harmony Country Club In fact, the last time she was there she was with Whitney, waiting for her friend to finish giving tennis lessons. They'd often felt out of place in such an establishment. Unfortunately, African-Americans and Latinos were not often welcomed with open arms, except as a quota or a statistic for the purpose of political correctness. Times were changing, though, and it made Theresa feel better.

Still, she knew there were people who didn't appreciate the changing times. Rebecca Hotchkiss, perhaps. Theresa shuddered when she thought of the visit she had from Gwen's mother the day before. Between the two of them, Theresa felt uneasy. She knew how the Hotchkiss women could be when backed into a corner. Though Theresa wasn't intentionally trying to cause trouble, she knew her appearance had set them on edge.

No more unpleasant thoughts, she promised herself as she approached the dining area. After being late the last time she planned to see Drew, Theresa made sure to arrive a few minutes early. Holding her head up high, she entered the column adorned restaurant. The maitre d' showed her to a table and seated her.

Theresa looked at her surroundings. She never doubted that she would return to the Harmony Country Club. Of course, at one time she had anticipated it would be because she was Ethan's wife.

A classical piece that Theresa recognized as Chopin's played in softly in the background.

As she looked around, she recognized several of the people from parties at the Crane Mansion that she had helped to organize. Would they recognize her? And if they did, would they acknowledge her?

No matter, she told herself. I have nothing to prove.

Theresa glanced down at her watch. It was almost 12:30. Drew should be there soon.

"Waiting for someone?"

Theresa looked up and her eyes widened. Gwen stood beside Theresa's chair, looking down at her with a strangely impassive countenance.

"As a matter of fact, I am. And he'll be here any moment," Theresa replied, her voice crisp and clipped.

A small smile broke onto Gwen's features. "May I join you until your friend arrives?" Gwen asked with amazing civility.

Theresa surveyed her companion's expression. Gwen didn't seem to be on a rampage that day, but Theresa still felt uneasy. She was beginning to learn that nothing Gwen or her mother did was entirely straightforward. Besides, the last thing she needed was to be reminded of Ethan again. She wanted to forget. _Desperately._

"Actually, Gwen, I would prefer to wait alone," Theresa replied.

"Really, Theresa! You're going to make a scene if you don't invite me to sit with you."

Theresa hesitated, and Gwen took that as an acknowledgment to be seated. Pulling out a chair, she sat and leaned toward the dark-haired young woman.

In a soft, low voice, Gwen said, "To be quite honest, I'm glad I ran into you. I was hoping to have the opportunity to speak to you again."

"What is it this time? Now that you and your mother have given me a sound tongue lashing and made threats, what's to be next? Shall I be flogged?"

Gwen laughed lightly. "You're so spirited! But no, that's not what this is about. I simply realized that I have no idea about the woman you've become. I'm curious about you."

"Curious? I thought you already knew everything there was to know. After all, you came into my store making wild accusations. You seemed to think you had everything figured out."

"Can you ever forgive me?" Gwen asked reaching out and lightly touching Theresa's arm. "I behaved abominably!"

"Gwen, I never wanted us to be enemies," Theresa replied.

"I know. And I believe that now."

"You do?"

"Yes. I know you couldn't possibly be a threat to me. I spoke to Ethan last night and he told me that the thought of you and he together was absolutely ludicrous! Since we were little more than children, Ethan and I knew our lives would be spent with the other. Besides, he values trust and honesty so much and the sad fact is that he'll never trust you again."

Theresa swallowed hard upon hearing Gwen's words. It doesn't matter what Gwen says, she told herself. You don't care about Ethan. You don't care what he thinks. But she did care, as Gwen knew she would.

Theresa forced a smile. "I hope you and Ethan will be very happy together, Gwen."

"How sweet of you!" Gwen replied, her voice sugary.

Theresa felt her smile falter a bit.

"So, I hear that you are going to be Whitney's maid of honor," Gwen supplied, changing the subject.

"Yes, I am. Chad and Whitney are destined to be together. I'm so glad they've finally made it. I...I always had faith that they would."

Gwen's expression changed somewhat. "Theresa, do be careful at the wedding. I would hate to see you embarrass yourself in front of everyone."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Just that I know it will be difficult for you to be at the altar. Constantly being reminded of what you've lost must be horrible. After all, Ethan didn't marry you five years ago. Chuck didn't marry you, though I suppose that really wasn't his fault. But you know the old adage: 'Always a bridesmaid, never a bride.'"

Theresa felt the blood drain from her face. How could Gwen be so cold as to use Chuck's death just to get back at her?

Standing quickly, she grabbed her glass of ice water and threw the contents onto Gwen's face. As the cold liquid hit her, Gwen shrieked. The conversations in the restaurant stopped as people looked over the two women.

"How clumsy of me," Theresa said quietly.

"You did that on purpose!"

The maitre d' approached Gwen and Theresa, rubbing his hands together nervously. "Is there a problem here?"

Gwen, with water dripping off her face and hair, glared at the man. "What do you think?"

Flustered, the man's face turned red. Gwen reached for the cloth napkin on the table and began to wipe away the water.

Theresa grabbed her purse. "Excuse me," she said to the man before starting to walk out of the restaurant. Her steps were quick and steady. She rounded the corner into the lobby and ran straight into Drew's arms.

"Perfect timing," he said with a grin, steadying her.

"I...I have to go," Theresa said, her voice quivering.

Drew looked down into Theresa's eyes and could see the tears pooling within, threatening to spill over. She looked back, and he watched where she glanced. It was all starting to make sense to him. He saw his sister-in-law, and though Drew could not hear what she was saying, the maitre d looked mighty uncomfortable. And was Gwen wet?

Drew looked back at Theresa and could feel her body begin to shiver. "You aren't going anywhere by yourself in your current state," he said. Surprisingly, Theresa did not argue with him.

He led her outside to his car and opened the passenger door for her. Numbly, she got in.

He asked her where she lived, and she quietly gave him her address. But other than that, she said nothing. Every minute or two, Drew glanced at her. He noticed that she was playing with the diamond ring on her left hand, her expression stony.

When he pulled into her driveway and stopped the car, he came around and opened the door. After a pause, she got out. Opening her purse, she felt for the keys to the house. Drew walked her to the door and watched as she tried to insert the key into the keyhole. Her hands were unsteady and she dropped the keys.

"Mierte," she cursed quietly as she kneeled to get the keys. The tears were still threatening to spill over.

Drew kneeled as well, and as they reached for the keys, their hands touched. "Allow me," he said. Taking the keys from her grasp, he unlocked the door and opened it. She walked in, and he followed.

"Why don't you sit down," he suggested. She did so, and he navigated his way through her house to the kitchen where he searched through the cupboards before finding a glass. Filling it with water, he went back to her and instructed her to take a sip.

Drew sat next to her and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Now, can you tell me what this is all about?" he asked soothingly.

She closed her eyes, tears finally spilling. "I have never hated anyone until now." She shook her head. "I can't believe I just said that. If my mother heard me, she would be fit to be tied."

Drew touched her face and wiped her tears. He remembered Pilar quite well, and knew that if she was there, she more than likely would reprimand her daughter for saying such a thing. Drew didn't hold such scruples, however. "It's just me, Theresa. You can say whatever you need to say. I won't judge you."

Theresa looked into Drew's turquoise eyes and felt foolish. She barely even knew the man. Why was she crying in front of him?

She stood and walked to the mantle of the fireplace and ran her fingers over the edge of a framed photo of Chuck. "I must seem like such a basket case to you! I'm sorry. I'm fine. Really I am."

"You're a terrible liar," Drew said.

Theresa smiled slightly and turned to look at him. "Now that's something I've never been told."

"There's a first time for everything," he replied glibly. "So tell me what happened at the country club that has you so upset."

Theresa hesitated. Should she really get into that with him? "It's a long story, and it goes farther back than just today."

Drew leaned back on the couch and stretched his arms out. "I have plenty of time," he replied.

"Why are you being so nice?" she asked.

"I should think it would be obvious," Drew replied.

His gaze made Theresa feel as if he could see into her soul. It made her feel warm and uneasy at the same time. "I...I...wow. Um, if you knew about me, you probably wouldn't be here right now. I don't exactly have the greatest reputation in this town at least with the country club set."

Drew did know, yet he was curious about Theresa's side of the story. Though he had not been able to attend Ethan and Gwen's wedding, he remembered the rumors that circulated around that time, as well as Gwen's rancor when she spoke of Theresa the next time Drew came to Harmony. And he remembered Ethan's solemness. Though Ethan wouldn't admit it, Drew remembered thinking that his brother made a mistake in marrying Gwen. He'd known all along that his brother wasn't perfect, but others were just then starting to figure it out. His image was tarnished from the whole fiasco, though Drew had to admit that Ethan emerged a stronger, more focused person.

"You can't take that too much to heart, Theresa. That crowd is fickle."

"I don't care. Not exactly. I guess I'm just amazed at how things that happened a long time ago can still have repercussions. Mama always tried to warn me that there would be consequences for my actions, but I never listened to her. I should have listened...," her voice trailed off.

"Tell me about what happened, Theresa."

"Do you know the Crane family?"

"You could say that," Drew replied guardedly.

"When I was younger, Mama used to work for the Cranes. She would come home and tell me stories about Ethan; how he was a sad little boy, but how he had a heart of gold. I imagined that someday we would meet and fall in love, and his sadness would go away.

"When I grew older, I took a job with Mrs. Crane as her personal secretary, and I did get to know Ethan...and we did eventually fall in love. But he was never mine to love. He was engaged to another woman, who soon became suspicious of me. I was afraid; afraid of what she would do, and I made up a lie about having a boyfriend. Pretty silly, huh?"

"But you didn't have a boyfriend?"

"No, and Gwen kept demanding to meet him. One night, I was prepared to tell Ethan and Gwen the truth, but Whitney intervened. She saw an old tennis friend, and had him pretend to be my boyfriend. His name was Chuck Wilson."

"So that's how you met Chuck."

"Yes, but at the time, I only had eyes for Ethan. How foolish I was! Once Gwen met Chuck, she apologized to me for thinking I was trying to sabotage her relationship. I felt terrible but relieved at the same time. I wasn't actively trying to ruin her relationship. I just felt this amazing connection between Ethan and me. I knew that if we could spend time together, he would come to realize that marrying Gwen was a mistake...that it was more about family obligation than what his heart desired."

"The Cranes and Hotchkisses planned Ethan and Gwen's wedding from the time they were children," Drew commented.

"How did you know?" Theresa asked.

Covering, Drew replied, "Everyone in my family's circle knew about it. It was quite the coup for the Hotchkiss family."

"Of course."

"So once you and Ethan began spending time together, you fell in love?"

"Yes. It was ironic, actually. I had put together a portfolio of what my dream wedding would be like, complete with flower arrangements and dress designs. When Gwen caught sight of it, she assumed it was for her wedding to Ethan. I was eventually roped into being their wedding planner, and I couldn't refuse. If I did, Gwen would know that my feelings for Ethan went beyond friendship. I was planning the wedding of the man I loved, but it was to another woman! I sound horrible, don't I? No wonder Gwen and her mother have gone out of their way to try to make my life miserable."

"I think we've all been caught up in situations that were beyond our control at one time or another," Drew supplied.

"You're being generous. I was a heel. I justified my actions and lies with the idea that fate was on my side. I should've had more courage, and I should have been more honest. Those lies were what caught up with me, and the fallout was enormous. Ethan felt betrayed, and I don't blame him," she said.

"What happened?"

"I...I don't want to talk about it."

"So Ethan married Gwen even though he loved you."

"Yes. It was hard. Very hard. But I wouldn't trade that time with Ethan for anything. He taught me a lot about myself, and that was the summer I grew up. I finally got the stars out of my eyes so that I could see what was around me...other opportunities, other dreams. I moved to New York to pursue my fashion career. That's when I met Chuck again."

"And this time there was no Ethan to cloud your vision."

"Exactly. I've never known anyone like Chuck. He brought out the best in me; he made me want to be a better person. But I could be silly with him, too. He was always daring me to try new things, to be adventurous. Yet he had this amazing tenderness about him. The little things about him amazed me, I suppose. I remember one day we were at the grocery store, and a little girl was by herself and crying. It turns out that she had lost her mother. So Chuck comforted her, told a silly joke that made her laugh, and we helped her find her mother. He was wonderful with children."

"It must have been difficult for you when he passed away."

Theresa looked down at the floor. "It was," she said simply. "With Ethan, I knew I had lost him, but I at least had the knowledge that he was out there somewhere living life to the fullest. Even if we weren't living out our dreams, he was out there. When Chuck died in the accident, I felt as though part of me died, too. At first, I didn't want to believe it was true. I was convinced that he was going to walk through the door one day and tell me it had all been a terrible mistake. But that day never came. All the dreams we shared...gone. All the plans we made...gone. Of course, you know what they say about plans. Even the most carefully laid plans can go awry.

"I still miss Chuck so much, and what happened today really brought that fact home for me." Theresa shook her head and tears fell down her cheeks. "God help me, but I hate her."

"What happened today has something to do with Chuck?" Drew asked standing. He took Theresa's hands and led her back to the couch.

Theresa sighed as she sank down next to him. "Yes and no. After Chuck died, I had nothing to keep me in New York. I considered returning to Harmony to live for about a year before I actually took the plunge. I knew there would be complications, but I never imagined some of them. I just wanted to be close to my family and my friends. Of course, Gwen and her mother are convinced that it's all about Ethan; that I am trying to get my claws into him. They couldn't be further from the truth, but I guess I understand why they think the way they do. What I can't understand are their methods."

Drew chuckled. "Rebecca Hotchkiss is notorious for her gutsy moves. Few people dare to stand up to her. I hear she's as cold and calculating as they come."

"Like Mother, like daughter, I assure you. Gwen approached me while I was waiting for you to arrive. She said she wanted to talk to me; that she was curious about the person I've become. It seemed strange to me, but she sounded so sincere. We eventually started to talk about my best friend's wedding which is coming up soon. Her whole demeanor changed, Drew. It was unreal. She...she said she knew how uncomfortable it would be for me to be standing at the altar considering everything that had happened with Ethan...and with Chuck. She made a crack about always being the bridesmaid and never the bride. I was stunned. I threw water in her face and left. I just couldn't believe that she would make light of Chuck's death; that she would use that to try to hurt me! I should've known better!"

Damn, that was cold! Drew thought. Still, he wasn't surprised. He'd known Gwen for a long time; for most his life, really. He didn't think she was a bad person, but she doggedly sought to protect her own interests at any cost. If it meant stomping on Theresa's feelings, Drew knew Gwen would do it. Theresa talked about being a liar, but Drew knew that if it came to keeping Ethan, Gwen would lie, too. Hell, she probably already had.

Ethan is a fool, he thought. As Drew studied Theresa, he couldn't help but think that Ethan had thrown away a good thing. And for what? An unhappy marriage? Ethan certainly didn't appear very happy when Drew saw him yesterday; nor did he look happy when Drew came back to Harmony shortly after the wedding those years ago. No wonder Gwen is afraid! And she's using Chuck's death as a way to reopen Theresa wounds to head off what she considers to be any threats to her marriage.

"I really, really miss Chuck. I wish so much that he had never died in that accident! I wish that we were starting our family. I wish that I could someday look into the eyes of our children and see aspects of him staring back at me. I even wish that I could just have one more day with him. Just one more. How much more I would appreciate it! But it's never going to happen."

Drew wrapped his arms around Theresa and held her as she cried. Gently, he stroked her hair until her crying subsided to sniffles.

"Theresa, I wish I could take it all away. I really do," he said softly.

"I didn't mean to unload all of this on you," she said quietly a few minutes later.

"Don't apologize. I'm your friend, and I hope you know that. I can't even imagine what it must have been like to go through all you have and to be reminded in such a callous way, but I've also never imagined anyone could have so much fortitude. I wish I would've seen you throw that water in Gwen's face."

A small smile crept onto Theresa's features despite her angst. "It was rather priceless," she supplied.

"That's the spirit. She's afraid, Theresa. Regardless of whether she should be, she is. Desperate people do desperate things. She should never have said what she did, but it was her defense mechanism."

"That's just it, Drew. She doesn't have to be afraid. I'm not the type of woman to go after a married man!"

"Perhaps she is concerned that Ethan would go after you," Drew suggested.

"No. It wouldn't happen. Ethan's too honorable."

Drew almost choked. "It's strange what desire will make people do," he replied. "A person's ideals will go right out the window."

"Not Ethan. And not me. I've never ...," Theresa started but then broke off.

"Never what?"

"Nothing. Don't worry about it. Just trust me when I say that I'm not going to be pursuing a relationship with Ethan."

"But you will be pursuing other relationships?"

"Rebuilding the bonds with my friends and family members is important to me."

"That's not what I meant. Theresa, let someone else in. Let me in."


	26. Chapter 26

Author's Note: In the summer of 2000 when _Passions_ was still in its early stages, I absolutely adored the relationship between Ethan Crane and Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. I discovered the wonderful world of fanfiction and even had my own fanfiction site, and this story was born through my enthusiasm for this show, this couple, and storytelling. This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, and though there are aspects of the story that I am tempted to change in 2010, I won't because the original (flaws and all) holds a special place in my heart.

I previously posted _The Most Carefully Laid Plans _on my site, Once Upon a Time, as well as on Turtle Run and Coffeerooms. It is no longer in any of those places and hasn't been for quite awhile, though I do still get e-mails from people from time to time wondering where they can find a copy. So in celebration of the tenth anniversary of this story, I decided to post it here.

Obviously, I do not own the _Passions _characters found within the story, though the original characters are my own. Nor am I affiliated in any way with _Passions. _No money is being made from this story. Believe me-if I did control _Passions,_ the show would've gone much differently.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Six: "Expectations"**

Theresa's eyes grew wide with surprise as she surveyed her companion. "I don't know what to say," she replied.

Drew leaned back on the couch and looked at Theresa smugly, the seriousness of before forgotten. "I often have that effect on women," he said with a devilish grin.

Theresa rolled her eyes. "You are incorrigible!"

"Perhaps you can help me to mend my wicked ways," he suggested.

"Now you're teasing me," Theresa said, crossing her arms.

"Not exactly," he replied. "The truth is that when I'm around you, you make me want to be a better person."

And it was true, much to his chagrin. He began to feel a pang of guilt; his second in less than two days. Theresa was definitely someone special, and if circumstances were different . . . . but they weren't. He was in Harmony for a purpose, and she just happened to fit into his purpose quite nicely.

Theresa felt her cheeks redden and hoped that he didn't notice. She didn't feel like such a wonderful person and certainly not one to inspire such high words of praise. "I'm certainly not a role model for anyone, believe me," she said, standing. "Um, are you hungry? We never did get to eat."

"Well, I'm always _hungry_," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

She sighed. "Seeing the serious side of you was nice while it lasted."

His expression turned to one of mock solemness. "Who's not serious? I, for one, am quite serious when I say that I'm hungry."

"Well, fortunately for you, I happen to be an excellent cook. Tell me, while you were in Spain, did you happen to acquire a taste for the cuisine?" she asked as she began to walk into the kitchen.

"I love Spanish cuisine," he called after her as he began to follow. "In fact, when I was a little boy, our housekee..." Realizing what he was about to reveal, Drew cut off his sentence. _Close call!_ What was it about Theresa that made him drop his defenses? He was going to have to be more careful.

"I'm sorry," Theresa said sticking her head around the corner. "What were you saying?"

"Nothing. Just that I love Spanish cuisine."

"Any requests?"

"I happen to love _quesadillas_."

_Quesadillas? _It had been a long time since she'd made them. She tried to remember the last time. It was...at the Crane Cabin with Ethan. Ethan's words came to the forefront of her mind. _"Theresa, the _quesadillas _were delicious_." His words of praise once meant so much to her.

Being with him, even during that difficult time when he found out his true parentage, had been everything to her. Even though things didn't end well for them, she was glad that she could be a support to him when he found out the truth. But what had he done with the information? As far as she knew, nothing.

"Theresa, are you alright?" Drew asked.

Theresa's attention snapped back to her companion. "Of course. Why do you ask?"

"You looked like you were a million miles away."

"Not quite that far," she replied with a weak smile. "So, you like _quesadillas,_ do you? Well, it just so happens that _I_ am an expert at making them."

"Wonderful," he replied.

"All we need is some _arroz y frijoles_ to go along with the _quesadillas_."

"And don't forget the _sangria_," he addded.

"_Sangria_? I'm afraid I never learned how to make that. My brother, Luis, or Mama were the ones who always made it when I was younger, but I was too young to drink it then."

"Lo and behold, not only is there a _quesadillas_ expert in the house, but there also happens to be a _sangria_ expert here."

Theresa smiled. "Now why am I not surprised, Drew Winthrop?"

He winked at her. "I must be losing my touch."

She cleared her throat. "Hardly. So, what do you need to make the _sangria_? We'll have to be sure that I have everything."

He rattled off a list of ingredients before finishing with red wine. "I'm a brandy man, myself, but I found out the hard way that brandy doesn't work with _sangria_."

Theresa opened a drawer and pulled out two aprons. After tying one around her waist, she gave one to Drew. Holding out the protective garment, he examined it. It was pink and frilly with ruffles. "Just how does this..._thing_...work?" he asked dubiously.

"Are you sure you've been in a kitchen before?" she asked taking it from him. She straightened it out and linked her arms through his, tying the apron around his waist.

She looked up at him, once again struck by the sense of familiarity she felt when with him. Why did he seem so familiar to her? She knew she'd never met him before recently. Something else struck her, though, when she looked at Drew. He was incredibly _handsome_. Sure. She'd noticed his appearance before, but had never dwelled on it. _Then she realized it was more than simply thinking he was attractive. She was _attracted to him.

He lifted a hand and smoothed back a stray lock of hair that had fallen onto her forehead. She felt her breath stop.

He traced her jaw line with his fingertips, a gesture that felt incredibly intimate. "You're staring," he said huskily.

"Sorry," Theresa said, moving away from him and breaking the eye contact they'd had.

When she stepped back and got a good look at him, she giggled. Drew Winthrop, the man who exuded raw sexuality, was wearing a pink, frilly apron.

He looked down at himself and grimaced. "So much for taking me seriously," he said.

"Real men can wear pink," Theresa replied. "I promise! One day, it will be back in. What Don Johnson did for pastels in the mid-80's, you can do for pink in the new millennium."

She walked to the sink to wash her hands before beginning to pull out ingredients.

Theresa and Drew sat on the deck overlooking the ocean, drinking _sangria_ and eating _quesadillas._ The sun was starting to dip low in the sky, and a gentle breeze came off the water.

"This turned out to be a good day, after all," Theresa said smiling.

"I'm glad you think so," he replied. "I wish Gwen hadn't said those things to you."

"Me, too. But somehow I'm not surprised. I know you think I'm a good person, Drew, but I'm really not. I have a lot of things to answer for."

"Don't we all," Drew replied, his blue eyes gazing into the ocean.

"Why do you never stay in place for very long?" Theresa asked.

"We've already talked about this," Drew said. "You know me; I like adventure. But a person can't have too much adventure when he's in one place for too long."

His manner was flippant, but Theresa wasn't convinced by it. He was hiding something, but what?

"And I already told you about my brother's friend who considered himself to be quite the adventurer. Only it turns out that he never stayed in one place for too long because he was involved in illegal activities. Some adventures! Now, you aren't going to turn out to be a drug smuggler or a hitman or anything like that, are you? Because quite honestly, if you are, this isn't going to work for me," Theresa said half-seriously, half-teasingly.

"No, nothing so nefarious. Though that definitely would make life more interesting," he replied, raising an eyebrow. "Just call my waywardness the 'younger son syndrome.'"

"You haven't really told me much about your family," Theresa said quietly. "I wish you would."

"Ah. Don't know that there's much to tell. We're just your stereotypical dysfunctional family."

"No fair, Drew! I told you about my family, but you've hardly told me anything about yours. Just that you don't want to be part of the family business. Please," Theresa replied.

"I'll put it to you this way, Theresa. Why would I want to stay in the same town as my family when I can never measure up to their expectations? I have an older brother who is perfect in their eyes, so I let him take care of family obligations. It's easier just to do what I want to do. I don't have to work. Don't even particularly like it, to be honest with you."

"Tell me more about this brother."

Drew's expression hardened. "He's about three years older than I am and so responsible. Always does the right thing for everyone. While I was busy getting into trouble, he was always busy bailing me out."

"That doesn't sound so bad," Theresa said. "My brother, Miguel, and I were always doing that for each other."

Drew grimaced. Actually, he'd always been a little sickened by all the attention showered upon Ethan, the golden boy. Everyone loved him; worshiped him, really. It seemed as though all Drew ever heard while growing up were questions about why he couldn't be like his big brother. Everyone always thought Ethan was so kind, so considerate. The fact of the matter was that Ethan could afford to be those things. No one ever dared to tell him no.

"Trust me when I say that thoughts of my family do not envelop me in sentimentality. My parents barely tolerate each other. My sisters' greatest concerns in life are finding the most acceptable husbands. My brother always has an answer for everything. I swear that even when he makes a mistake, my mother finds something endearing about it. He can do no wrong."

"So it's easier to run?"

"Excuse me if I'm mistaken, but isn't that what you did? Taking off to New York with your tail tucked between your legs when things didn't work out well between you and Ethan? You're not in a position to talk."

"Yes, I did take off, but I had a goal. I wanted to be a successful fashion designer, and I made it happen. I guess your situation just bothers me because you are so sharp, Drew. So sharp. But it just seems that you're so afraid of not measuring up to your family's expectations, you would rather not try at all. You give them exactly what you think they have come to expect, but I know there's so much more to you!"

"Theresa, you don't know me at all," Drew said evenly. "If you did, you would realize that your faith in me is greatly misplaced."

"I don't think so. I've seen a different side of you, remember? I've seen the generous side of Drew Winthrop. I'll never forget what you did for the Youth Center. And today? You took care of me. I was a mess, and you made me feel so much better."

Drew shook his head, thinking about what he was doing at that very moment. He had sought Theresa out, knowing that any association with her would drive his brother crazy. And if he managed to take it a step further and make it a strong, close association? To finally have something that Ethan couldn't? It was too tempting, but his conscience was starting to nag him.

"Look, it's quite noble that you think I'm a nice guy, and I wish I were as nice as you think I am, but there are things about me you don't know. And if you did know these things, you wouldn't even want to know me."

A frown formed on Theresa's features. "Do you always try to push people away when they get a glimpse of who you are underneath?"

"Theresa, you aren't listening. You don't know _what _I am underneath!" Drew glanced at his watch. "Look, I have to go," he said abruptly as he stood. "The food was wonderful. Thank you very much."

He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and he was on his way.

Theresa watched, stunned as he left. "What is going on with you?"

* * *

Drew was losing his focus, and he couldn't afford to do that. So much depended on what he did, but he felt his resolve waning. It bothered him that Theresa had so much faith in him. Correction: so much _misplaced_ faith in him. He wasn't the man that she thought he was, and he never would be. So why did he feel regret that he couldn't be that person?

_Too many complications, _he thought to himself. _Don't let yourself start caring for her_.

He picked up his cell phone and pushed a memory redial button. When the person on the other end answered, he said, "Yeah, it's Andrew. We need to talk face to face. I need you to give me some perspective."


	27. Chapter 27

Author's Note: In the summer of 2000 when _Passions_ was still in its early stages, I absolutely adored the relationship between Ethan Crane and Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. I discovered the wonderful world of fanfiction and even had my own fanfiction site, and this story was born through my enthusiasm for this show, this couple, and storytelling. This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, and though there are aspects of the story that I am tempted to change in 2010, I won't because the original (flaws and all) holds a special place in my heart.

I previously posted _The Most Carefully Laid Plans _on my site, Once Upon a Time, as well as on Turtle Run and Coffeerooms. It is no longer in any of those places and hasn't been for quite awhile, though I do still get e-mails from people from time to time wondering where they can find a copy. So in celebration of the tenth anniversary of this story, I decided to post it here.

Obviously, I do not own the _Passions _characters found within the story, though the original characters are my own. Nor am I affiliated in any way with _Passions. _No money is being made from this story. Believe me-if I did control _Passions,_ the show would've gone much differently.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: "Past Imperfect"**

Ethan stood at the front door of Sheridan and Luis's home. He had waited to arrive until he knew that Luis would be gone for work. The last thing he wanted that morning was to run into Luis Lopez-Fitzgerald. Being around Luis was never a pleasant experience. Still, Ethan knew that Luis was good to Sheridan, and that was what was important to him. The love between Sheridan and Luis was quite evident, and Ethan had to admit that fact, even if there was no love lost between him and Luis.

He shifted the box he held in his arms and rang the doorbell. A moment later, Sheridan came to the door. Ethan smiled when he saw her. Over the last few weeks, Sheridan's belly had grown rounder. She looked positively radiant.

"Hello stranger," Sheridan said standing aside. "Come on in!"

Ethan gave her a kiss on the cheek as he walked past her.

"What's this you have in your arms?" she asked. "Not more baby presents, is it? You know what I told you last time."

"I know, I know," Ethan replied with a grin. "But this-this you'll want. It's a little different from the other things I brought over a few weeks ago."

"Well, don't keep me in suspense!" Sheridan exclaimed gleefully.

Ethan handed her the box, and Sheridan set it on the coffee table. Sitting on the couch, she struggled to lean forward to peek into its contents.

Her eyes grew wide when she opened the top flaps and placed her hand on something furry. Pulling the item from the box, she exclaimed, "It's Mr. Fluffy!" Sheridan held the stuffed play rabbit to her chest and smiled. "I haven't seen this in ages! Where on earth did you find him?"

"You're not going to believe me when I tell you."

"Try me," Sheridan said.

"Mother is the one who actually found it."

"Ivy?" Sheridan asked in shock.

"Yes. It seems she and a slew of maids were going through our old nursery rooms in the house. Apparently, Mother plans to renovate those rooms. While perusing through some of our old toys, she found Mr. Fluffy."

Sheridan smiled. "I can't believe it. I mean, I haven't seen Mr. Fluffy in years! He disappeared one day, and I never saw him again."

Ethan looked at Sheridan, his discomfort evident. "Um, Sheridan, about Mr. Fluffy..."

"Yes, Ethan?"

"The reason you couldn't find Mr. Fluffy was because I hid him from you."

"You what?"

"Well, it was a long time ago, and we _were_ just children . . . ."

Sheridan playfully hit Ethan's arm. "But you knew how much I loved Mr. Fluffy! But I seem to recall something else. You wanted to play with him, and I wouldn't let you."

Ethan smiled. "Well, I did finally bring him back. Isn't it the thought that counts?"

"Yeah, Ethan. More than twenty years later," she said shaking her head in amusement. "You never did like for people to tell you no. I guess it's that stubborn Crane streak you've inherited."

_Crane _stubbornness? Hardly. Ethan's smile faded, and Sheridan couldn't help but notice.

"What is it? What did I say?"

"Nothing," Ethan replied quickly, almost abruptly. He tried to soften his tone. "I promise. Everything's fine."

"No, it's not. Spill it."

"It's not really anything significant. I've merely been thinking about something. Hypothetically, of course. Do you think that you would be a different person if you weren't a Crane?"

"Ethan, I'm probably not the best person to ask that. Our family caused a lot of heartache for Luis and me. I can't forget the secrecy, the lies, the manipulations. Life would be much simpler if I weren't a Crane, but we can't change the families we're born into." Sheridan paused. "Ethan, why do you even ask?"

"I guess I just get tired, Sheridan. Tired of trying to meet everyone's expectations. Tired of trying to do the right thing. Sometimes I really envy Andrew."

"Andrew? Really?" Sheridan asked with incredulity.

"Don't look so shocked," Ethan replied with wryness in his voice.

"It's just that...well, Andrew is such a cad. I love him, but that fact remains. Why would you want to be anything like that?"

Ethan started pacing. "He has this sense of freedom; this sense of adventure. He doesn't answer to anyone, and he doesn't care what people think. I, on the other hand, always do what is demanded of me. And I basically always have. I mean, I've always been the responsible one."

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with being responsible."

Ethan replied, "I know that. I really do. Believe me, Father and I have had some interesting discussions about responsibility and commitment." Ethan knew that Julian never understood his commitment to being faithful to his wife. "It's just that sometimes I wonder what it would be like to follow my impulses. Throw caution to the wind. You know. Go over Niagara Falls in a barrel, jump from an airplane, the usual."

"Trust me when I tell you there's a difference between being adventurous and being reckless."

"Ok. I would probably never do either of those things. But what about going to Vegas and being an Elvis impersonator? I could do that."

Sheridan smiled. "Ethan, what has gotten into you? Going to Las Vegas and working as an Elvis impersonator? Where is all of this coming from?"

_What am I thinking?_ Ethan asked himself. _I'm not making any sense!_ But he did know where it was coming from. It came from his other side, his playful side; a side that few people had seen. He might confide a great many things into Sheridan, but there were still things she didn't know about him. He thought back to those days when he, Theresa, Whitney, and Chad were snowed in at the Crane Cabin. Both Theresa and Whitney had been upset after being caught in the snow, and he and Chad had tried to make the girls feel better. 'Elvis' Crane made an appearance that night, much to the delight of all present. It was also the night that he and Theresa sang their first duet together. _That night was the start of so many things,_ he realized.

"Well, Ethan. Where _is _all of this coming from?"

"I don't know. I'm just blowing off steam," Ethan said.

"Well, I think I do know," Sheridan replied. "You mentioned that Ivy is planning to do renovations to the nursery. Just what exactly are those renovations for?"

Ethan looked at Sheridan uncomfortably. "Mother assumes that Gwen and I will be having a child soon."

"And does Gwen assume the same thing?"

"Well, you know that she wants a child very much," Ethan said.

"But you still aren't certain," Sheridan said.

"No, I'm not. But Sheridan, I do love Gwen."

"I know."

"The thing is, I don't know how can I explain this to you when I don't even understand it myself. Gwen and I have always been together. From the time we were very young we knew we would someday get married. All through our time in boarding school and in college, we planned our future. We always knew that we both wanted careers, but we also decided that our children were never going to be raised the way we were."

"If you've decided that and know how you want to raise children, what's wrong, Ethan?"

"I am what's wrong. Sometimes I don't know if I'm coming or going. Why am I so fearful of becoming a father?"

"I have a few theories," Sheridan replied.

"If these theories have anything to do with Theresa, save it," Ethan said, his voice becoming harsh.

"Ouch, Ethan. Who said anything about Theresa?"

"I recognize that look on your face, Sheridan. I've known you long enough to know when you're about to broach a topic I don't want to talk about."

"But who said anything about Theresa, Ethan?" Sheridan repeated.

Ethan sighed and absently ran his fingers through his hair. "You didn't take everything out of the box, Sheridan," he said deliberately changing the subject.

Sheridan gave him a disapproving look, knowing exactly what he was doing. But she had to admit that Ethan looked to be at a breaking point. Pushing him was not going to help him any..

She turned her attention back to the box on her coffee table and pulled out a smaller white box. Carefully, she lifted the top and saw an old photo album.

"I haven't gone through the album. I thought we could do that together," Ethan explained.

"That sounds wonderful. I don't have many pictures of us when we were children."

"I guess that's because we were hardly ever home," Ethan said, the disdain evident in his voice.

Sheridan thought back to the incident that had happened when she was a young girl. When she closed her eyes, she could still see the blood on her hands. An involuntary chill ran down her spine. "Perhaps it was best for us under the circumstances," she replied. "I did always miss Pilar when we went back to boarding school after the holidays."

"So did I," Ethan agreed as he sat next to his aunt.

Sheridan opened the front cover of the album and immediately smiled when she saw the photograph. It was a picture of Ethan and Andrew. The date was labeled March 21, 1981. The brothers stood back to back flexing their muscles, and their skin was green.

Ethan groaned when he saw the photo. "We got into so much trouble when Pilar found out what we'd done."

"I don't remember this. Why are you and Andrew green?" Sheridan asked.

"If I remember correctly, we were going through our 'Incredible Hulk' phase. We went into my mother's room and took her face masque and applied it to ourselves. We glopped it on and used the entire jar! I can't say it was one of my more brilliant ideas," Ethan chuckled to himself. "In fact, I think we left a trail of green handprints throughout the house until the stuff finally dried."

"I guess that's one of the rare occasions when you got Andrew into trouble, rather than it being the other way around," Sheridan said. "How funny!"

"Well, the worst part was that the governor and his wife were visiting that night. Mother and Father thought it would be a good experience for us to meet them, and when we saw them, Andrew ran up to the governor's wife and gave her a big kiss. He got green masque all over her."

Sheridan laughed lightly. "That's Andrew for you! He's always been the ladies' man."

"Fortunately, the guests were amused by us. Mother instructed Pilar to take a picture."

Sheridan continued to turn the pages. "I can't believe these have been tucked away for so many years!" she exclaimed.

They stopped when they came to a photo of Sheridan with Pilar. Lightly, Sheridan traced the picture with her fingertips. She'd never known her mother; she'd died giving birth to Sheridan. But when she imagined what type of woman she would want as a mother, Pilar always came to mind. In so many ways, Pilar had shown love to Sheridan the way a mother would. Pilar comforted her, protected her.

"She looks so beautiful," Ethan commented, looking at the photo of a younger Pilar.

"She does," Sheridan replied. "Look at the light in her eyes. There's so much life in them."

Sheridan swallowed hard, remembering how some of that light had gone out once it was discovered that Martin Fitzgerald was, indeed, dead. For so many years, Pilar had held out hope that her husband would return to her. "She deserved so much better than our family gave to her."

Ethan nodded. "Sheridan, none of that was your fault."

"I...I know. I guess I still think about it, though."

"Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea," Ethan said closing the album.

"No, Ethan. This was a great idea! We need to confront the demons from our past. But I would like to think we have more than just demons. We've had wonderful things happen to us, too."

Sheridan opened the album, and they continued to turn the pages. Finally, near the end of the book, they came to another page of photos. Sheridan surveyed them with interest, but Ethan felt a wave of discomfort come over him when he noticed who was in the pictures.

Sheridan recognized the boy in the photos. It was obviously Ethan. But who was the dark haired little girl? She almost looked like Theresa, but that couldn't be right. Could it?

"Ethan, do you know who this little girl is?" Sheridan asked.

"Sure. It's Theresa."

Sheridan opened her mouth to speak when she heard the front door open. Luis called to her through the house. "Sheridan, it's me! Just came back to pick up some papers I forgot."

Luis walked into the living room, but stopped on his tracks when he saw Ethan. "Crane, you aren't welcome here," he said pointedly.

"Luis!" Sheridan exclaimed.

Ethan frowned and felt himself going into Crane mode. Standing, he haughtily said to his aunt, "Sheridan, you really should get a muzzle for him. Tthough I'm sure his bark is far worse than his bite."

"Would you like to find out?" Luis asked, his fists clenched.

"Children, would you **please** stop it?" Sheridan cried out in exasperation.

Luis felt some of his tension easing. "What is he doing here, Sheridan?"

"Ethan wanted to bring some things to me." She held up Mr. Fluffy. "This was one of my favorite stuffed animals when I was little. And then we were looking at old photos."

Luis glanced down at the album and craned his head to glimpse at the pictures. Immediately he recognized Theresa from the photos. "What the hell are you doing with pictures of my little sister?" he demanded of Ethan.

"Not that I owe you an explanation, but I didn't know those photographs were in the album."

"A likely story."

"Luis, where do you get off making assumptions?"

"Oh, I don't know. Could it be because you've shown yourself to be completely untrustworthy where my sister is concerned? All I know is that you had best stay away from her, or you'll have me to answer to."

"I am married to _Gwen_. I love _Gwen._"

Luis shook his head. "Well, when you were engaged to Gwen, you strung my sister along. Now that there's a wedding ring on your finger, that's going to change your basic nature? I don't think so. You're a Crane, a user."

Ethan swallowed hard. He wasn't a Crane at least not by blood. But good or bad, the Cranes were his family. "Officer, it seems to me that you should be a little more grateful. Crane Industries contributes a great deal to Harmony in the form of both jobs and tax dollars. Where do you think your salary comes from?"

"That does not mean that you or your family own me. Nor does that give you the right to see my sister. If I hear or see anything that leads me to believe that you are involving yourself in her life again, I will knock you so hard on your wimpy rich ass, you won't know what hit you."

"Cool it!" Sheridan demanded as she stood up. "Ethan, I'm glad you stopped by, but I think it's time for you to go."

Ethan squeezed her hand. "We'll talk later," he promised.

Sheridan nodded. "I'll walk you out."

Luis watched as his wife walked her nephew to the door. He stayed where he was, still fuming over the gall of that bastard.

When Sheridan walked back in, Luis said, "Ethan is such a pompous little..."

"Luis!" she interrupted. "That's enough. I love you, and I can respect the fact that you don't trust my family. I don't particularly trust them either, but Ethan's different."

"Nah, Sheridan. He's a true Crane, through and through. Just call him an Alistair-in-training."

Sheridan reached up and touched her husband's face. "You don't know Ethan. He's a good man, Luis. He truly is. It's just that the two of you are so pig-headed, neither of you can see the good qualities in the other."

"I'll never forgive him for what he did to my sister. I know she wasn't completely innocent in the matter, but she was young. Ethan was old enough to know better. It was because of him that she left home and didn't come back for years."

"There's more to it than that. Theresa did what she had to do, Luis. And Ethan did what he had to do. Those two...they did truly care for one another."

"As long as it remains in the past, that's fine. I mean, I can't do anything to change that. But if Ethan Crane thinks that he is going to have anything to do with Theresa now, he has another thing coming. It will be over my dead body."


	28. Chapter 28

Disclaimer: I think by now everyone knows I don't own _Passions_. Just sayin'...

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: "The More Things Change. . . . "**

Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald walked through the backdoor of Miguel and Charity's house and into the kitchen. It still felt surreal to be there. So many things had changed since she left Harmony, but when she walked into her old home, she was amazed at how she was taken back in time.

"Hey, Sis," Miguel said tousling Theresa's hair.

"Hi Miguel," Theresa replied, still looking around the kitchen. With the exception of Hope and Joy's drawings, which adorned the outside of the refrigerator, it looked the same. So many hours had been spent in that room. Late night talks with her mother over hot cocoa and marshmallows, evenings spent cooking with Whitney and dreaming about their prospective futures, ice-cream consolation dinners after an upsetting encounter with Ethan. The kitchen held all of those memories and more.

"Are you alright? You have the strangest expression on your face."

"I guess I was just thinking. It just seems as though the more things change, the more they stay the same."

"If you say so," Miguel said shaking his head. His sister had always been so dramatic. _That _certainly hadn't changed. "Listen, I got an e-mail from Mama earlier today."

This news captured Theresa's attention away from her surroundings and her memories. "Really? How is Mama? I miss her so much!"

Miguel smiled. "She seems to be doing well. She told me that she wasn't used to living in such prosperity. It seems those investments really paid off."

"Investments? What investments?" Theresa asked.

"Just some stuff that Ethan helped her with. I don't know all the details."

"Ethan did that for Mama?" Theresa asked.

"Yeah," Miguel replied as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He glanced at the expression on his sister's face and found himself starting to feel worried. He wished he had never even brought up Ethan's name. "Mama also has some other news. In fact, she mentioned that she has how did she put it? a gentlemen caller. His name is Eduardo."

An audible breath escaped from Theresa as she sat down at the kitchen table. "I'm so happy to hear that! I didn't think that Mama would ever get to the point that she would even entertain the possibility of pursuing a relationship with a new man. Papa was her life."

Miguel nodded. He remembered vividly how their mother lit a candle each night and prayed for the return of her husband and oldest son. Pilar's stories of Martin Fitzgerald alternately filled their household with laughter and tears. Miguel desperately wished he could remember his father.

Thoughts of his father particularly filled Miguel's mind when he became a father himself. When he held his daughters and looked into their luminous brown eyes, he was filled with a sense of awe and wonder. He had so many hopes for his children, and it made him speculate whether his father had held him as a small child and had the same hopes.

"I still remember when Luis suggested re-mortgaging the house to get a better interest rate," Miguel said. "But of course, it would mean Mama would have either have to divorce Papa on grounds of abandonment or else have him legally declared dead because Papa's name was on the paperwork. Mama wouldn't hear of it, though. Not without knowing what had happened to him."

"I remember that," Theresa said quietly.

"I was so angry with Luis that night," Miguel mused.

"But he was always looking out for the family even if he was overbearing."

"What do you mean 'was'?" Miguel asked with a grin. Theresa playfully punched his arm.

"I'm so glad that Mama is allowing herself to meet new people. I wish she wasn't so far away, but it seems as though the old country agrees with her."

"Our mother is a strong lady," Miguel said. "And sometimes when I look at you now, Theresa, I see her strength in you."

Theresa shook her head. "N-no. I'm not a strong person, Miguel. I could only ever aspire to be the type of woman that Mama is. I still yet have a lot of things to atone for."

Miguel reached out and took his sister's hand. "You're stronger than you give yourself credit. You're like a cat, Theresa. You always land on your feet."

"I know that I disappointed everyone. You, Luis, and especially Mama. She tried to warn me. Over and over, she did. I just didn't want to listen. I have so many hopes for the future, Miguel, but there is one overriding hope that I have. I want to make her proud and be the kind of woman she would want me to be." Theresa felt tears sting her eyes, but she was determined to not shed them.

"Theresa, Mama is proud of you. So proud," Miguel assured her.

"I I'm not at that point yet where I can believe that. But someday, Miguel. Someday."

Theresa and Miguel turned when they heard the sound of laughter and little feet.

"_Tia _Theresa!" Joy and Hope squealed in unison. The little girls ran to their aunt and climbed up in her lap, each competing with the other for Theresa's attention.

"Hey, you two!" Theresa said hugging them tightly. She looked over at her brother and silently mouthed, "Thank you."

Charity walked into the kitchen carrying the twins' shoes and socks. "They were so excited that their Aunt Theresa is taking them to the park, they rushed down the stairs when they heard your voice. They wouldn't even let me put on their socks and shoes!"

Theresa looked down at the girls she held in her laps. "You know what happen to little girls who don't wear their shoes, don't you?"

"What?" Joy asked.

"The tickle monster comes out!" Theresa exclaimed tickling each girl's side. They squealed and slid off her lap, running to their mother.

As Charity and Miguel each began to put shoes on their daughters, Charity looked up at Theresa. "Theresa, thank you so much for offering to take Joy and Hope to the park. They're always talking about you, and when they found out they were going on a picnic with you last night, I didn't think I would ever get them to sleep."

Theresa smiled. "Well, I think _I'm_ the one who should be thanking you. I'm just glad to be able to have the opportunity to spend time with them. I went too long without being around my nieces."

"I'm going to leave you with our cell phone number should you need to reach us. Miguel and I will probably be in and out. We were hoping to get some shopping done. The girls' birthday is coming up in a few weeks, and trying to go to the store with them is chaotic!"

"I can imagine. I remember how Miguel was when he was little. Always grabbing onto everything," Theresa said with a wink.

"Hey, I wasn't the only one!" Miguel protested.

"And with two sets of hands to look out for, shopping is a grand undertaking."

"I understand completely," Theresa replied.

Charity walked to the counter and wrote down the cell phone number on a post-it note. She walked to Theresa and placed it in her sister-in-law's palm. Suddenly, the strangest sensation overcame her. She rubbed the top of her blond head, trying to make sense of the feeling which was invading her very being.

Noticing the perplexed look on Charity's face, Theresa asked, "What is it? Is something wrong?"

Charity squinted and hesitated. "I I don't know. I had the strangest feeling just now. Something's going to happen, Theresa. I don't know what, but it's something big."

Theresa looked over at Miguel and saw the concern which was made evident in his features. At one point, no one took Charity's premonitions seriously, but over time, everyone came to realize that they had the uncanny habit of coming true, in one fashion or another.

"I'm sorry," Charity said shaking her head. "I didn't mean to worry you."

"No, it's fine," Theresa assured her. "Joy, Hope, and I are going to have a wonderful day at the park, aren't we girls?"

"Yeah!" came the twins' eager response.

Miguel handed Theresa a tote bag with the necessities for the twins; sippy cups, a change of clothes, the usual. "I'll go out and put their car seats into your car," he said.

"Sure. We'll be right out," Theresa replied.

A moment later, after the girls said their good-byes to their mother, Theresa followed her brother out, holding on to each girl's hand. She turned back to glance at Charity, who seemed lost in thought.

_I wonder what she meant by something big is going to happen,_ Theresa wondered.

* * *

Ethan Crane sat on the park bench, observing people as they walked past him. He glanced at his watch for what must have been the umpteenth time. His client was late. Very late. Usually, such a meeting would have taken place in Ethan's office. Why Mr. Harrison had insisted upon meeting at the Harmony Park was beyond him, but Ethan also happened to know that Mr. Harrison was a man who did not usually follow protocol.

"This deal had better go through, or I'm going to have Father breathing down my neck," Ethan muttered.

Just as soon as he'd said that, he heard the familiar ring of his cell phone. Pulling it from his jacket pocket, Ethan answered, "Ethan Crane here."

_"Ethan, this is Jack Harrison. I apologize, but I won't be able to meet with you this afternoon." _

"Is everything alright?"

_"Fine. Fine. Nothing's changed with the deal. I just" _His voice lowered. _"Well, this is rather embarrassing, but Mrs. Harrison was angry with me for spending so much time at work. I told her I would spend the afternoon with her. Please, accept my most sincere apologies." _

"I understand," Ethan replied. "I'm married myself, and I know how all of that goes. Good day to you."

_"Good day."_

Ethan put away his cell phone and sighed. It was a perfect day. The sun shone brightly, but it wasn't too hot. A gentle breeze blew, rustling the leaves on the trees. As he breathed the air in deeply, he could almost smell autumn in the air. It wouldn't be long.

Around him, he heard the laughter of children. So carefree. So happy. He wished he could remember what it was to feel untroubled; what it was to feel an utter sense of contentment.

_Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Crane. There's nothing so pathetic as a man absorbed in self-pity._

He stood and began to walk along the path back to his car. As he passed the swings, he saw a young couple there. They looked to be about college-age and oblivious to all else but each other.

The young lady was on the swing with her companion pushing her. Her laughter filled the air around them.

Ethan closed his eyes. Images filled his mind.

_Standing at the top of the hill, Ethan could see the large body of water below. "Are you sure this is safe?" Ethan asked as he sat on the swing next to Theresa. _

_"Positive. Whit and I used to come out here all the time. There's nothing quite like it!"_

_He and Theresa had been working on wedding plans, but when he had mentioned that there was still so much about Harmony he didn't know and so many places he hadn't been, that made their day take an entirely different turn. Theresa had insisted upon taking him to Hidden Hollow._

_It was a quaint little recreational area, built and run by an older gentleman named Arda Lee who had lived in Harmony all his life. During the spring and summer, Hidden Hollow was the locals' best kept secret. Yet during the fall and winter, the place came to life with Christmas decorations and lights. People from all over the state came to see Arda Lee's spectacle. _

_When Theresa had suggested going to Hidden Hollow, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Yet uncertainty now gripped Ethan as he stood at the top of the hill and prepared to swing over the water with Theresa. What if the ropes on the swing broke and they both went tumbling into the water? And what if being around Theresa became too much for him? That was a distinct possibility, as well. He found himself thinking about her when she wasn't around, wondering what she was doing. Everything was starting to get out of hand._

_Theresa looked at him. "Are you ready to take the plunge?"_

_Ethan looked at her with doubt._

_"Sorry," she laughed. "Poor choice of words!"_

_"You're going to be the death of me yet," he replied with a grin. _

_"At least you'll have fun in the process," she countered. "Now come on! You're going to love it. I promise!" _

_"If you say so."_

_They both lifted their feet, and the swing dipped down the hill over the water. Ethan felt his stomach drop and laughed. Everything around him passed by so quickly as they went back and forth. _

_"I almost feel as though we're flying!" he exclaimed to Theresa who smiled at him._

_"It's the next best thing," she replied, her voice full of laughter. _

_When they finally pulled themselves away from the swing, Ethan and Theresa sat in the grass, surveying the natural beauty around them._

_"That was incredible, Theresa. You've given me the most amazing gift."_

_Theresa tilted her head. "What's that?"_

_"The gift of the unexpected. Everything in my life has always been planned. Always. And everything has been planned around everyone's expectations of me, too. But you you don't do that to me. With you, I'm just plain Ethan."_

_"Ethan, believe me when I say there is nothing plain about you," Theresa replied with earnestness._

_Their eyes locked, and Ethan felt this magnetic pull to Theresa; a pull he was going to have to overcome. Over the last few weeks, the pull had become stronger. After the accidents stopped and the stalking misunderstanding was cleared up, the two developed a rapport like none other he had ever experienced. Being around Theresa made him feel so_ alive. _He was comfortable with her and could be himself, but he was also excited by her vivacity and beauty. Every day he spent with her was a day of new discoveries. _

_He looked away and exhaled. Closing his eyes, he could see Gwen's beautiful, trusting face in his mind. He had loved her for as long as he could remember. They practically grew up together. She was the first girl he had ever kissed, the only woman he'd ever made love to. Being away from her had been difficult. He wished desperately that her job hadn't taken her away so much in the last few weeks. He appreciated and respected her business savvy, but wished she were back in Harmony, nonetheless. _

_Ethan glanced at Theresa who was lying on the grass, staring at the sky with a starry look in her eyes and perfect contentment on her face. He was grateful she didn't know what he was thinking. He had to get a handle on things! He tried to tell himself that his feelings for Theresa would not exist if Gwen were in town. _

_But was it true? _

_No, it had to be! _

_It was Gwen who helped to keep him focused on what was important and focused on those things he really wanted. _

_But what did he want? Was it what everyone else wanted? Did he really want what was expected of him?_

_Light laughter invaded his thoughts. "Do you see it?" she asked._

_"See what?"_

_"Lie back," Theresa instructed him._

_He did as he was told, and she pointed up toward the clouds in the sky. "The clouds are drawing so many pictures for us today," she explained. "Over to the right is a huge frying pan. And slightly to the left of that is a Vera Wang dress in the sky."_

_Ethan smiled as he tilted his head. It came within close proximity of hers. "I don't know, Theresa. It looks more like a Versace creation to me," he replied playfully._

_With mock seriousness, she said, "Trust me, Ethan. I know my fashions, and I know my clouds. That is definitely a Vera Wang design."_

_Ethan turned over on his side and propped his head on his hand. "You always see so many possibilities."_

_Theresa turned to look at him. "How could I not when there are so many possibilities to be seen?" she replied with passion in her voice. "Life is about more than concrete plans and expectations, Ethan. Life_ is _one big possibility!" _

_She settled back onto the grass, smiling to herself. "Ah, the possibilities," she murmured. "For countless years, people have watched the clouds float during the day and gazed at the stars at night. For countless years, people have looked around themselves and dared to see not what is, but what could be. It's the possibilities. The possibilities drive us, just as surely as blood rushes through our veins."_

_Slowly, hesitantly, Ethan reached for Theresa's hand. Her fingers became intertwined in his own as they lay on the ground silently looking up the sky and thinking of all the many possibilities._

Feeling an object hit his leg lightly, Ethan looked down. A large rubber ball had come from nowhere, and he picked it up.

A little girl with long, dark hair and a tanned complexion came running after it. Ethan nearly gasped when he saw the owner of the toy. She reminded him so much of the young Theresa he had seen in the photographs.

Looking up at him with her luminous chocolate colored eyes, she smiled. "Did you know you have my ball?"

"So I do," Ethan replied, handing the ball back to her. "What's your name?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers. Mama and Papa told me so."

Ethan smiled. "That's probably a very wise decision. But what if I weren't a stranger? What if you knew _my_ name? Would that make things any different?"

The child seemed to consider his words. "I guess so."

"Good. I'm Ethan Crane."

"And I'm Hope Lopez-Fitzgerald. Pleased to meet you," the child said extending her tiny hand.

Ethan took it in his own and shook it. Of course she resembled Theresa. This must be one of Miguel and Charity's daughters. But where were her parents?

"Who are you with today, Hope?" Ethan asked.

"My sissy and aunt," she replied. "I ran after my ball. Do you think they'll be mad at me?"

"Well, perhaps once we explain the situation to them, they won't be," Ethan replied. "Come on, let's find them."

Just as soon as they began back down the trail, Theresa came rushing up still holding onto Joy with one hand and had a picnic basket, blanket, and tote bag in the other. She immediately focused on her niece and didn't seem to notice Ethan.

"Hope, you had me scared to death!" Theresa exclaimed dropping the items from her arms and pulling her precocious niece into an embrace.

"I just went to get my ball," Hope explained.

Theresa kissed Hope lightly on the forehead. "Next time, wait for me. Okay?"

Hope nodded.

Theresa finally looked up at the man, and her eyes widened. "Ethan," she said simply.

Ethan managed a smile. "Hi, Theresa. Looks as though you have your hands full," he commented.

"I guess you could say that," she replied. "Thank you for keeping her from going any further. She's such a dreamer, she just doesn't think about those she's leaving behind."

"Sounds familiar," Ethan replied with a wink.

Theresa felt her cheeks grow hot and knew they must be reddening. She prayed that Ethan didn't notice.

Hope looked at her sister, and Joy nodded at her. Both had the strangest expressions on their faces, and Theresa couldn't help but see it. It reminded her of the peculiar expression she'd seen on their mother's face earlier that day. "What are the two of you up to?" she asked.

"I feel funny, _Tia _Theresa," Joy said, a frown forming on her features.

"Me, too," Hope said.

Theresa felt their foreheads. They didn't feel as though they had fevers. She looked up at Ethan and shrugged. "Neither of you feels warm."

Hope looked up at Ethan, and he could feel her brown eyes piercing him. She still had the strange expression on her face. Tilting her head to the side, Hope announced, "You love her, don't you?"

* * *

_Thanks to those of you who have been leaving reviews. I truly do appreciate them! :)_


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I truly appreciate them! :)

Disclaimer: You guys know I don't own _Passions_. If I did, well, it would've turned out quite differently.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: "From the Mouths of Babes"**

Hope looked up at Ethan, and he could feel her brown eyes piercing him. She still had the strange expression on her face. Tilting her head to the side, Hope announced, "You love her, don't you?"

Ethan looked to Theresa and back to Hope, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Joy sighed and rolled her eyes, as though Ethan should know exactly what her sister meant.

Hope repeated, "You love her. You love Tia Theresa."

Ethan opened his mouth to protest, but the words would not come out. He looked at Theresa and felt so many things, as he always did when he saw her or thought of her. It wasn't as simple as loving her or not loving her. Too many other things were involved: longing, hope, guilt, disappointment, desire, passion, and an undeniable connection. But he realized that his feelings did not have a right to exist.

Theresa felt the blood drain from her face as she put her arms around the little girls' shoulders. Kneeling down, she said, "Girls, don't be silly! You know that Mr. Crane is married and loves his wife very much."

"But Tia Theresa...," Hope protested.

"I thought we were going to have a picnic," Theresa said, forcing cheerfulness into her voice as she abruptly tried to end the conversation.

This was certainly not the day she had anticipated. She imagined it would be fun, but uneventful. Yet her nieces were always proving that she should expect the unexpected.

Theresa couldn't make herself look at Ethan, but she could feel his gaze on her.

"Thank you again, Ethan, for finding this little nymph," Theresa said standing and squeezing Hope's shoulder. "Come on, girls. Let's get going."

Theresa started to gather her tote bag, picnic basket, and blanket while keeping hold of the girls. It wasn't working. After a few steps, she lost her grip on the tote bag, dropping it. Its contents scattered across the grass.

Silently cursing, she hurriedly knelt to retrieve the items. Ethan did the same.

As both of them reached for a children's book that had fallen from the bag, their hands touched. Theresa drew in a breath as she felt the electricity surge through her. It was something that had never gone away. Their eyes met, and Theresa felt as though time was standing still. She always could get lost in his deep blue eyes.

Immediately, she felt horribly guilty. What was happening to her? It was bad enough that she was spending time with Drew Winthrop, but for her to look at Ethan and wonder about the possibilities between them? Absently, she touched the ring she still wore on her left hand.

"Th-thank you, Ethan," she said quietly as he gave her the book.

They stood, and Theresa looked back at the girls who were surveying Ethan and her with great interest. Hurriedly, Theresa tried to get everything picked up and in her arms again. Once again, she dropped something, though this time it was the blanket.

Ethan leaned over and picked it up. "Why don't you let me help you carry this? You just hold on to the girls."

Theresa hesitated. She opened her mouth to tell him no thank you, but the words simply would not form. Numbly, she nodded.

"Tia Theresa, I know the perfect spot for us," Joy announced pulling on Theresa's hand. "Come on!"

Theresa couldn't help but smile when she felt Joy's little hand tugging on hers. Of course, Joy didn't realize it, but she and Hope also pulled on Theresa's heartstrings. She still felt such a sense of awe when she looked at her nieces. One day, she hoped to have little girls and little boys of her own. Until then, she intended to enjoy every aspect of being an aunt.

Joy led everyone to a grassy knoll situated under two large oak trees, which provided adequate shade. Theresa was grateful for that because the sun was beginning to feel warmer or was it just her imagination? and she was looking forward to being in the shade. Joy's reasons for leading them to that particular spot were not quite so altruistic. The area was conveniently located next to a huge play area, complete with swings, a slide, monkey bars, and a sand box.

As Ethan began to set the items he had carried down, Hope and Joy were already begging to be allowed to go and play on the swings. Theresa smiled and nodded in agreement, and the girls were on their way.

Ethan watched them go, mesmerized by how much they reminded him of younger versions of Theresa. He turned back to Theresa who was spreading the blanket on the grass. "They look so much like you," he commented.

"Do you really think so?" Theresa asked as she sat down.

"I do. It's rather uncanny, actually. I was visiting my Aunt Sheridan earlier and took some items to her that Mother found in the old nursery at the house. One of the items I took was a photo album, and there was a picture of you in it. The big brown eyes and the big smile were unmistakable. So when I saw Hope, I was truly taken aback. She and Joy look as though they could be your daughters."

Theresa's face clouded, remembering all the things that she had once thought would be, but simply weren't.

* * *

_"I probably need to go home," Chuck told Theresa between kisses. "It's getting late."_

_Leaning against him as they sat on the sofa, Theresa wrapped her arms around him tightly, not wanting him to go. "Stay with me," she whispered._

_He touched her hair; it was as smooth as silk, and he always loved the way it felt to his touch. So soft. So beautiful. Just like the rest of her. "Temptress, that's probably not such a good idea," he replied chuckling. "Remember what we agreed?"_

_She sighed. "I remember. We agreed to wait until after the wedding, but that's only a few days away! Besides, it was my idea!"_

_Chuck kissed her on the forehead chastely. "If we waited this long, we can wait three more days. Besides, I don't want you to have any regrets."_

_"I would never have any regrets where you're concerned. You are my rock. If I'm lost, I only need to look back to you to find my way again."_

_"It's funny that you say that because I've often thought the same thing of you. I mean, you know the way I was before we found each other. I had no direction and no ambition. Everything was about playing the game...whether that game was tennis or something else. But you've taught me that there is so much more to any of us than mere frivolity. I can't wait for us to begin all the wonderful things we've planned."_

_"Tell me how our lives are going to be," Theresa said leaning her head against his chest, listening to the pounding of his heart. _

_He laughed lightly, and she could feel the vibrations of his body as he did. Theresa loved being close to him and being held in his arms. _

_"Our life together is going to be perfect, and we're going to have it all. You're already knocking everyone's socks off with your designs, and before long, I'm going to be married to the most promising and innovative new designer in the entire fashion industry. And our children are going to be just wonderful, too. All six of them are going to look just like you ," _

_"All six!" Theresa exclaimed, interrupting him._

_"All four then?" he asked._

_"How about all five? Just like in my family...three boys and two girls."_

_He nodded. "Five it is. And as I was saying, they're all going to look exactly like you."_

_She looked up at him and smiled. "I don't know, Chuck. I think I would like it if they all looked exactly like you. You are, after all, the most wonderfully handsome man in the entire world."_

_"No, they're going to look like you, and that's that," he declared._

_"How about a compromise?" she suggested. "The boys will look like you, and the girls will look like me."_

_"That sounds fair," he agreed with a grin. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if by this time next year, we had a baby on the way?"_

_"It would be. I know everyone thinks we're crazy for wanting children right away, but what do they know? I can't wait to feel our baby growing inside of me, and I can't wait for that first breath, and that first step."_

_"And I can't wait to get started on trying to have that first baby," Chuck replied._

_"Then stay with me tonight. Let's get a little practice," she said with a wink._

_"In three days, Love. In three days."_

_Chuck stood, and Theresa did the same. Looking down into her luminous brown eyes, he said, "Never doubt that I love you more than anything in this entire world." Taking her hand, he placed it over his chest. "My heart beats only for you."_

_Theresa felt tears sting her eyes as their lips touched. There was desperation and need in their kiss, and Theresa was afraid her knees would give way. _

_"I love you so much, and I can't wait to be your wife."_

_He touched her face gently. "I'd better go or I'll never want to leave. I'll see you in the morning."_

_"Until then," she said before spontaneously kissing him again. "Call me when you get home to let you know you're in safely."_

_"I will," he promised._

_The call never came._

_

* * *

_

"Theresa, what is it?" Ethan asked upon seeing the look of devastation on her features. "What did I say?"

Fighting back the tears which were forming, Theresa shook her head. "It's not you. I, I just..." her voice trailed off and she looked down at her left hand at her engagement ring. "Three more days," she whispered. "If only..."

Seeing the way she looked wistfully at her ring, Ethan understood. "You're missing Chuck, aren't you?"

She nodded. "We used to always talk about what our future was going to be like. We'd talk about the children we were going to have and what they'd look like." Between tears, Theresa managed a little smile. "You see, the boys were going to look like him and the girls were going to look like me. It just never happened, though."

Ethan sat down next to Theresa and wrapped his arms around her. "Theresa, I'm so sorry."

"I'm okay. Really I am," she said, trying to shake off her raw emotions. "I have so many wonderful memories, and I wouldn't trade what I had with Chuck for anything in the world. Our relationship was so amazing and special and uncomplicated. There was never any doubt about how he felt for me or how I felt for him. We were never untruthful with each other. Everything was just a simple progression for us. No twists and turns. No detours."

Unlike us, Ethan thought. Would their lives be different if Theresa hadn't left Harmony five years ago? It's a selfish, foolish thought, Ethan reprimanded himself.

Ethan took her left hand in his and touched her large diamond ring. "You still wear his ring," he stated simply.

"If, heaven forbid, something were to happen to Gwen, would you stop wearing your wedding ring right away? I don't think so."

"Theresa, it's been over a year."

She jerked her hand away from him. "What is it with you and Luis? You could be each other's echo!" she snapped. "Just because it's been over a year, that doesn't mean that it has stopped hurting or that I'm ready to put the memories away. And who are you to even suggest that I do? Luis has an excuse for his interference. He's my brother. But you, Ethan? What makes you even think that it's any of your business? But you keep popping up! First at my house after my date and now here at the park."

"Do you think I sit around at the park all day just hoping that you'll walk by? I have better things to do, Theresa. As for the evening at your house, I thought you were in trouble. My mistake."

"Look, Ethan. I'm sorry. It's just that everyone seems to have an opinion about how I should be living my life. I'm doing the best that I can, and I am trying to move on."

"And I'm just trying to make sure that you're alright."

"But it isn't your responsibility," Theresa replied. "It's as though you want to tell me how I should feel, but it's not your place. Besides, last time I checked, you hadn't exactly cornered the market in successful relationships."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Ethan demanded.

"Never mind. Forget I said anything," Theresa replied, defeat evident in her slumped shoulders.

"No, I want to know what you meant."

"Fine. If you must know, it just seems to me as though you have something to say about my relationships, but you can't make your own work."

"And you know this because...?"

"Besides my own personal experience with you, I've noticed that everyone seems to skirt around the issue of your happiness. The first night I saw Sheridan, I asked her about you and if you were happy. She never answered my question but gave me some vague description of all of your activities in Crane Industries and in the community." She continued on without stopping for a breath. "I asked you that night on the pier if you were happy, and you never answered me. That, coupled with the fact that I keep having these terribly unpleasant encounters with your wife and mother-in-law, indicates to me that something is rotten in the state of Denmark. What am I supposed to think?"

Theresa stopped and looked back at Ethan, and embarrassment flowed through her as she realized that she'd allowed herself to ramble a bit too much.

Ethan did not confirm nor deny her suggestion. He merely asked, "Why would you even be concerned about my happiness? After the way we left things off..."

Theresa smiled weakly. "Ethan, you were such a huge part of my life. From the time I was a little girl, I heard stories about you; dreamed about you. Just because things didn't turn out well for us doesn't mean that I don't still want our happiness. That's all I ever wanted."

"That's all I ever wanted for you, too, Theresa. That's why it's difficult for me to see you still hurting over Chuck. I want you to be with someone who can make you happy...someone who can give you the life you deserve."

"I'm trying to move on. I really am. In fact, I-I've met someone."

"You have?" Ethan asked, shock registering on his features. He knew he should be pleased, but her words hit him like a ton of bricks. Whether he should care or not, he still did.

"Yes. I'm not entirely sure how to describe him, and I don't know if it will go anywhere, but he's unlike any man I've ever known. He has this...," she searched for the right words, "devil may care exterior, but on the inside there's so much more to him. I don't even know how to say it."

Ethan crossed his arms. "Wait a minute. Is this the man from Brazen; the one that Chad was telling me about?"

"It is," Theresa confirmed. "But before you start telling me that I'm making a mistake, consider the source of your information. Chad was only trying to get a reaction out of you."

"Which he did."

"Yes, he certainly did. I-I know it's hard for us to figure out our boundaries with one another. Having Chad trying to push us together doesn't make matters any easier."

Ethan opened his mouth to speak, but Joy came running toward them. "Ethan, come push us on the swings. Please!"

"Joy, I'm sure Mr. Crane has important business to take care of and needs to be on his way," Theresa said gently.

Ethan looked down at Joy's big brown eyes and smiling face. He couldn't resist her. "It's alright, Theresa. There's nothing quite like swinging, remember?"

Ethan thought back to the afternoon he and Theresa had spent at Hidden Hollow, descending from the hill on the swing that wafted over the water, coming perilously close to the river. Her laughter had been infectious that day. Actually, it always was back then. If only she could find the laughter within her again.

Theresa looked at Ethan quizzically. His words were cryptic, and Theresa watched in silence as Joy took Ethan's hand and led him to the swings. Drawing her knees to her chest, Theresa saw Ethan push the girls in their swings. Each was pleading to be pushed faster and higher. She saw him say something to the girls, but she couldn't make out his words. Yet whatever it was tickled them because both started to laugh.

Ethan was so wonderful with children. It made Theresa wonder why he and Gwen hadn't started a family of their own. She remembered the time they had spoken of having families, and she knew that Ethan wanted children because he spoke with such vehemence that his children would have a different upbringing than the one he had.

Gwen. The very thought of Ethan's wife filled Theresa with distaste. She'd never thought ill of her before the incident at the Country Club. For Gwen to throw Chuck's death in her face that way...

No, Theresa thought, shaking her head. I can't let myself be overcome with these negative feelings. Still, it was difficult.

Drew had been so wonderful to her that day. Yet his mood had changed so drastically. Why was he afraid for her to get a glimpse of the person he was inside, rather than the facade he portrayed to everyone else? Theresa wasn't sure what was going to happen with Drew, but she knew her life would never be ordinary with him around.

It perplexed her, however, that Drew would even want to bother with her. She carried so many complications with her; so much baggage... a failed almost-relationship with Ethan, a poor reputation among some of Harmony's elite, not to mention the feelings she still had for her late fiancé. Why, indeed?

A few minutes later, Ethan returned with both girls in tow.

"Tia Theresa, Uncle Ethan is going to make us crowns. We're going to be princesses!" Hope exclaimed.

"Uncle Ethan?" Theresa asked looking at him.

He shrugged. "It's the first I've heard of it." He knelt down, picking up late-blooming dandelions. Fashioning them together, Ethan placed a crown of flowers on each girl's head within minutes.

Theresa laughed at the sight. "Oh, don't the two of you look marvelous? Simply marvelous!"

The girls smiled in appreciation and ran off to the sandbox, eager to get to work on building a castle. After all, a princess had to have a castle.

"All we need now is one for their beautiful aunt," Ethan said, putting the finishing touches on a third crown. Sitting next to Theresa, he gently brushed away a stray strand of hair that had fallen in her face, and crowned her. "Perfect," he whispered.

Theresa felt a tremor pass through her as she looked in Ethan's blue eyes. Her heart started to pound as she tried to force her gaze away. She couldn't do it. Stop it! her mind screamed.

Shakily, she smiled. "Thank you, Ethan. When I was younger, I always wanted to be a princess." And I always thought you would be my prince.

"It suits you," Ethan replied, still very close to her. "Do you remember the time we went to the ballet?"

"How could I ever forget? It was one of the happiest nights of my entire life. I'd never seen anything as beautiful as Cinderella."

Ethan glanced away, images of that evening filling his mind. When he saw Theresa descend the staircase in his house with her white gown on, his breath was taken away. Her eyes sparkled, and when she laughed, he knew it came from her heart. He'd never seen anyone so beautiful his entire life.

Going to the ballet had always been tedious up to that point. It was merely something expected of the Crane Family. Yet being able to see it through Theresa's eyes had opened up a completely new world to him.

He looked back at her. "You looked like a princess that night. Perhaps Cinderella herself."

Theresa swallowed hard, a look of sadness crossing her features. "I don't believe in fairy tales anymore. I've grown up. I always depended on the idea of a prince on a white horse rescuing me from my ordinary life. Not anymore. I've learned to depend on myself. I am the only one who can make things happen for myself."

"Well, you sound positively practical."

Something in the way Ethan said 'practical' made Theresa cringe. Was that disappointment in his voice?

"I'm not a dreamer anymore. I can't afford to be."

Ethan leaned forward, passion flaring in his voice. "Aren't you the one who always told me that life is one big possibility? That I should see not only what is, but what could be?"

"That was a long time ago."

"But possibilities are timeless, Theresa."

Theresa chewed on her lip nervously. Suddenly, she saw Sam Bennett. An escape.

Waving to him, she caught his attention.

"Theresa, is that you?" Sam asked, genuine cheer and surprise crossing his features. What were she and Ethan doing together?

"Chief Bennett!" Theresa exclaimed, standing.

"I'd heard you were in town. Luis has spoken of little else. It's so good to see you!" he said embracing her.

"You, too," Theresa replied.

Sam looked to the side and saw Ethan's features harden. "Ethan."

"Chief Bennett." The voice was crisp.

Theresa could not help but note the coldness between the two men-Ethan and his father.

"Luis tells me that you're in Harmony to stay," Sam said evenly, returning his attention to Theresa.

"Yes. I'm getting ready to open my boutique."

"Best of luck with that. It just doesn't seem possible, though. It seems like it was only yesterday when you, Noah, and Whitney were running through the sprinklers in the backyard."

Theresa piped up when she heard the name of her old friend. "And how is Noah? I haven't spoken to him in ages!"

Sam's face lit up. "He's great. He's at Stanford, finishing his last year of medical school. He's still the same Noah, though. Always thinking of others. I tell you; a man couldn't ask for a better son."

Ethan stood. "Tell me, Chief Bennett, have you had the opportunity to look over the budget proposal I sent to your office?"

Theresa looked at Ethan and noticed an expression on his face she'd only seen once before...the time when he severed all ties with her.

Sam sighed. "Yes, Ethan, I have. Frankly, I don't think it's going to work. You and the other county commissioners need to understand that we need more manpower to do an adequate job. That means more funds."

"Perhaps if the police department were run with more efficiency, this wouldn't be an issue." His tone was haughty, challenging.

"You try walking a day in my shoes and see if you still feel that way," Sam replied, his tone becoming defensive.

"The tax dollars that the Crane family provides enable your two-bit operation to continue. I wouldn't be biting the hand that feeds you, as it were."

Theresa watched in wonder as the verbal sparring continued.

"You Cranes think you own everyone," Sam said in disgust. "When are you going to realize that everything isn't about you?"

Theresa interrupted hoping to defuse the situation. "Chief Bennett, please tell Mrs. Bennett that I said hi. Oh, and that I am dying to find out her recipe for tomato soup cake."

"I'll do it," Sam replied. "Theresa, it was nice to see you again. Ethan."

With that, Sam was on his way. Once he was out of earshot, Theresa turned to Ethan. He was obviously tense, as evidenced by his clenched fists.

"What was all of that about?" Theresa asked.

"What do you mean?" Ethan responded.

"The way you just spoke to him as if you thought you were somehow above him. Do I even know you, Ethan?"

"Well, what about the way he and everyone else act toward my family?"

"He's your family, too," Theresa replied, her voice barely a whisper.

Ethan shook his head. "Don't ever say that again!"

Theresa sighed. "I can't pretend to understand everything you've gone through, but Sam Bennett is a good man. If he knew you were his son..."

Ethan spat out, "It's not an issue! He will never know. Besides, he's not missing out on anything. He has his perfect family and a son who is everything he's ever wanted. Why spoil it for him?"

Ethan turned away from her, but she reached out and touched his arm. "Please, Ethan. Look at me." He sighed before turning back around.

"Why did you never tell? That night when we were at the cabin, I was so sure you would! You never felt close to Julian, and I know you were curious about Sam."

"Julian Crane is the only father I've ever known. For better or for worse, he is my father. Besides, do you have any idea of what he and Grandfather are capable of? They would destroy my mother! I can't risk that."

"Right. And your decision to not speak up has nothing to do with your own pride or fears," Theresa said, sarcasm creeping into her voice.

"Theresa, it was my decision not yours."

"Well, Ethan, I guess there were a lot of things that I wish you would've owned up to."

"The same goes for you," Ethan replied quietly. When he considered what he had found out about Theresa and her manipulations, he felt foolish for even wanting to believe in her anymore. The evidence that he discovered those years ago...

"This is getting us nowhere. There are simply issues that we aren't going to resolve," Theresa said wearily.

"Perhaps you're right," Ethan replied. "I should be going. Please tell the girls bye for me."

Theresa watched him go and felt defeated. Being around him was just too complicated!

She looked toward the sandbox and could see that the girls were still embroiled in their imaginary world of princes, castles, and dragons.

Looking up at the sky, she noticed how the clouds were particularly fluffy that day; almost like cotton begging to be picked. Among those clouds, she was almost certain she'd seen Cinderella's slipper.

No. Snap out of it!

She felt the crown she wore begin to slide and she reached up to catch it. She was about to straighten it and leave it on when she thought better of it.

"No more fairy tales," she promised herself removing the fragile crown of flowers.


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I truly appreciate them! :)

Disclaimer: You guys know I don't own _Passions_. If I did, well, it would've turned out quite differently.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty: "Blood of Me"**

It was no use. She was getting nowhere. As Gwen sat looking out the window of her office, matters other than work consumed her thoughts. _How ironic_. At one time, she would never have been able to understand how people could let their personal problems monopolize their thoughts, especially during business hours.

Of course, that was _before. _

Yes, so much was measured by that point in time when Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald insinuated herself into her life. Hers and Ethan's.

Gwen closed her eyes and she could still feel the coldness of the water dousing her face. She'd never expected Theresa to act like that- not in a million years. But when Gwen saw the look of disbelief, mingled with hurt and anger on Theresa's face after making the comment about Chuck, she knew she was in for a fight.

She reached for the remote control to the concealed stereo system in the corner. Pushing the random button on the CD changer control, Gwen settled back in her chair.

Music started filtering through the office, and Gwen immediately felt a sense of resignation. She tried to brush it aside, but she remembered this song well. She shook her head. The song actually came from a CD that Theresa had given her, and Gwen had kept it as a reminder; her guard would never go down again.

Strange how music could speak to people as few other things could. Only she wished it had been any other song than this one. It spoke a little too clearly to her.

Gwen glanced to the side of her desk and traced the edge of her wedding photo to Ethan. "That should have been our happiest day," she whispered.

Gwen closed her eyes once again and leaned back in her chair. She could still take no pleasure in the memory of their wedding day. So many things had gone wrong, not the least of which was the fact she knew that Ethan thought he loved Theresa. Of course, she and her mother had made sure to end any chance the two of them had, preserving her relationship with Ethan. Yet he had looked so sullen that day, still reeling from news of Theresa's "betrayal." It was a sheer contrast to the look of glee and triumph that adorned Rebecca Hotchkiss's face.

She and Ethan had started off so well. From the time they were in boarding school, it was always understood they would marry. Sure, their families supported the relationship because it would be beneficial to them financially, but it was never about money for Ethan and her. They shared love and respect. Otherwise, Gwen never would have agreed to marry him. She didn't want a loveless marriage; a marriage like the one her father and mother shared, a marriage like so many in their social circle had. No, she wanted more for herself.

Gwen had always prided herself on being an intelligent woman. Her savvy served her well in the business world. Often times, the competitors underestimated her because they knew she was Jonathan Hotchkiss's daughter and mistakenly believed her position as vice-president of Hotchkiss Enterprises was in name only. It was a misnomer she encountered frequently, but she used it to her advantage and would go in for the kill….metaphorically speaking, of course.

Her intelligence extended to other aspects of her life. The growing feelings between Ethan and Theresa weren't lost on her those years ago. Sure, she'd feigned ignorance, and in some ways, she was in denial, but she knew what was going on. It just angered her to think that her instincts about Theresa had been correct, but everyone _including Ethan_ had tried to make her feel as though she was somehow callously suspicious and in the wrong.

And what she had done to keep her relationship intact..

She was not about to let a relationship in which she and Ethan had invested ten years of their lives fail. Because of what? An infatuation? At the time, Gwen tried to put her pride aside and cut Ethan some slack. She knew that, in all truth, she wasn't in a position to cast stones.

At one point, there had never been any question in her mind about Ethan's devotion. It was always there, just another way that he was completely unlike his father….or hers, for that matter.

Sure, Ethan had plenty of opportunities to stray during their courtship, but he'd always remained faithful. In fact, Gwen knew some of Ethan's friends from college had scoffed at his faithfulness and could never understand the concept. At least, Ethan _had _been faithful until Theresa came into their lives.

She knew Ethan _thought_ he loved Theresa, but how could he? They hardly knew one another. Besides, they came from two completely different backgrounds. Theresa could no sooner fit into Ethan's world than Ethan could fit into Theresa's. It was a moot point. Certainly, it was a difficult pill to swallow, but Gwen had believed that like any other "infatuation," it would eventually fade and she and Ethan would be happy again.

She was wrong.

Much to her dismay, she soon came to realize that Ethan's feelings for Theresa had been more than an infatuation.

Gwen didn't know for certain that the "relationship" between Ethan and Theresa had been consummated, but she strongly suspected it had. Theresa might pretend to be virginal, complete with pasted-on wide-eyed innocence, but Gwen didn't believe that for one moment. How could the bond between Ethan and that..._girl_...be so strong if they hadn't made love?

This only served to strengthen Gwen's resolve. She'd known of other couples who underwent many trials to get where they were. Now she found herself in the same situation. This situation with Theresa reminded her of a sickness. Theresa was a disease, and diseases were meant to be eliminated.

Perhaps it was a cold way to examine the situation, but Gwen could not afford to look at it any differently.

Gwen had to admit, however, that she felt a twinge of guilt over her words to Theresa at the country club. They were intended to evoke a reaction from her, but Gwen had not expected to see the raw emotions in Theresa's features. It was as if her words had physically struck her adversary.

She ran her fingers through her blonde hair, a habit from childhood that her mother had often tried to discourage. Swallowing hard, she sighed. She had never really considered the possibility that Theresa's relationship with Chuck had been about more than money. Yet the pain of loss had been evident in Theresa's reaction.

When Gwen thought about what her life would be like without Ethan...

A tear formed in the corner of her eye, but she quickly wiped it away.

_Ethan._ What would he do once he learned of the debacle at the Harmony Country Club with Theresa? Gwen had surreptitiously removed mention of the incident from the gossip section of the society page. Though Ethan typically avoided such prattle, it would be her luck that the one day he decided to read that section would be the day the horrid article ran. However, she knew it was only a matter of time. Their set was all aghast with word of the confrontation.

Her mother had, of course, been furious, calling Gwen careless and foolish. Perhaps Rebecca was right. Baiting Theresa in so obvious a way had backfired on her.

Gwen leaned forward, placing her elbows on her desk. Supporting her head with her hands, Gwen rubbed her weary eyes.

Hearing the door to her office open, Gwen said quietly, "Not now, Marie."

No response, except for the steady footsteps across the office; a man's footsteps. She felt strong hands on her shoulder, caressing. Massaging. The tension began to leave her body.

A smile came to her face. All of this worrying was for nothing! Obviously it was Ethan, and he was there to show her that he _did_ love her.

"Oh, Ethan," she murmured, "you certainly are a man full of surprises."

"I'm sure this would be a surprise…if I _were_ Ethan," came the reply.

Gwen's eyes flew open. The voice didn't belong to her husband. She turned around and saw Drew.

Groaning, she replied, "Go away, Andrew."

Drew grinned and leaned against the desk. Crossing his arms, he replied smoothly, "Come now, Gwenie. That's hardly the warm reception I expected. After all, you've given me much warmer."

"Don't remind me," she said, her voice becoming harsh. "I told you on the phone that I didn't particularly want to see you."

"And I told you that you didn't have much of a choice in the matter. I need some perspective."

Gwen looked at Andrew. Andrew Crane depended on his ability to charm, but his words held a certain amount of strength in them; force really. He had only the vaguest resemblance to her husband, but there was something about him. Yet while Andrew looked like his mother, Ethan looked like…. well, she wasn't sure. Their demeanors were completely different, however.

Looking into his steely turquoise colored eyes, Gwen replied, "I don't feel like offering it."

"And I don't think that you can afford not to," he replied, the smile never leaving his face.

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged. "Just that you've been a very bad girl. I know firsthand. Remember?"

Gwen grew visibly pale. "I thought we agreed to never speak of that again. It was a mistake, and it was a long time ago."

"Funny how mistakes have a way of coming back to haunt us," Drew replied flippantly.

Gwen's brown eyes narrowed as she stood. Though Drew still towered over her, she felt on more even ground when she stood. "Just wait a minute. You have just as much to lose as I do. Ethan is your brother!"

"Do you think I'm _worried_ about him finding out? Honestly, Gwen! Have I ever been very concerned about my sanctimonious brother's feelings?"

Gwen shook her head. "Of course. I should have known! This is about Ethan. You're so transparent, Andrew Crane! You've always wanted whatever Ethan had."

"You think that's why I wanted you?" Drew asked.

"Yes."

He smirked. "You're right. No offense, Gwenie, but you aren't exactly my type."

"You're right. The local street corner whore is more your speed," Gwen shot back.

"You, better than anyone else, know that it's never taken too much convincing to draw women to me."

Gwen sneered. "You make me sick. You are so sure of yourself. All you've ever wanted to do is hurt Ethan! What I don't understand is why you didn't tell him about us."

"Funny that you mention that. I actually had intended to, but I had a change of plans. At the time, remaining silent served my purposes. After all, telling him that his then-fiancée slept with his brother might have provided him with that extra push he needed to call off the wedding and run off with his little side-dish. I didn't want that to happen. Besides, I knew that your mother was working overtime to discredit Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald. It served my purposes to have him marry you."

"But why?"

'Because I know Ethan. He's usually such an upstanding, devoted guy," Drew said with distaste evident in his tone. "He isn't the type of man whose head is turned easily. So I knew that whatever was going on between him and the housekeeper's daughter was the real thing. After all, Ethan doesn't have the gumption to have a full-fledged affair. But I knew that if he married you, he would always be tortured with thoughts of her."

Swiftly, without thinking, Gwen raised her hand. As it made contact with his face, she couldn't help but notice the bemused expression that remained on Andrew's countenance. "You bastard!" she hissed.

"The truth hurts," Drew said, smiling at his cliché. "Me, in this case."

Gwen turned away from her brother-in-law, believing it impossible that she could resent him as much as she did. To know that Andrew did not reveal their past because he thought it would be worse punishment for Ethan to be married to her was both hurtful and humiliating.

"Face it, Gwen. My saintly brother isn't so saintly, after all. You know I'm right. Otherwise, the scene at the Country Club would never have happened."

She turned around to face him again. "How do you know about that?"

"I was there," he replied, stifling a yawn. "I must tell you that I'll never forget the look on your face when she stood and threw the water in your face. Simply priceless."

"How nice that you had your amusement for the day," Gwen replied sarcastically.

"I wonder if Ethan knows about this yet?"

"Don't. You. Even. Think. About. It."

Drew waved his hand, dismissing the thought. "I don't think there's any need for me to mention this to my brother. I'm sure that by now, someone's already beaten me to it. Though I would love to see the look on his face when he finds out what you did to his precious Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald."

Gwen felt tears sting her eyes, but she was determined not to give Andrew the satisfaction of seeing her cry. "Why are you here?" she asked wearily.

"I already told you. I need some perspective."

She shook her head. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm feeling mighty….curious. What can you tell me about Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald?"

"I don't want to talk about her. God! Why are all men fascinated by her? I just don't get it."

"No, I don't suppose you would," Drew said.

In all honestly, he wished he _weren't_ intrigued by Theresa. In the times they had spent together, he felt himself being drawn in by her fiery spirit and kind heart. It was dangerous for him and for his plan if he allowed himself to start caring for her. Yet he knew he was well past the danger point, but if anyone could pull him back, he knew it would be Gwen. Her venom for Theresa was quite apparent, and it had been for years...for good reason.

But at the same time, he knew why his brother could not forget about Theresa. Her infectious laugh, her sparkling brown eyes, her zest for life, her obvious physical attributes...all of these qualities made her simply unforgettable. And of course, all those qualities would make the task ahead of him much more enjoyable.

A knock on the door caught both of their attentions. Before waiting to permission to enter, the door swung open. Rebecca Hotchkiss strode through. "Gwen, you and I need to have a little talk!" Her tone was crisp, but softened when she saw Drew. "Well, hello," she purred.

Drew raised an eyebrow. He'd known many women like Rebecca Hotchkiss; middle-aged women who still tried to rely on their "girlish charms."

Gwen sighed. "Mother, you remember Ethan's brother, Andrew, don't you?"

Rebecca smiled as she sauntered toward him and extended her hand. "I could never forget," she replied huskily. "It's been a long time."

"Too long," Drew replied as he took her hand in his and kissed it.

"Always the charmer," Rebecca said. "You're definitely your father's son, Andrew."

"So I've been told."

"I do hate to interrupt, but I need to speak to my daughter," Rebecca said batting her eyelashes. "You don't mind terribly, do you?"

Drew looked back at Gwen and could see an expression of dread on her lovely face. _She's probably not sure what is worse_, Drew thought. _Having to face up to her past with me or having to deal with her mother's meddling and plotting._

"Not at all," Drew replied said to Rebecca. He turned to Gwen. "We'll talk later."

Gwen did not acknowledge his words. She merely glared at him.

As Drew left the office, he could hear Rebecca starting in. "We're going to have to take care of this matter, Gwen. I just don't understand how you can be so disingenuous! Really, it's..."

_How sad for Gwen and her mother that after all the trouble they went through to discredit Theresa in Ethan's eyes, he still thinks about her,_ Drew mused. _Of course, in the end, it will work out to my advantage._

Drew looked forward to seeing his brother's reaction upon learning that he was seeing Theresa. He had a few more matters to see to before he could allow that information to get out. In fact, he intended to be Theresa's lover by the time Ethan found out about them.


	31. Chapter 31

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I truly appreciate them! :)

Disclaimer: You guys know I don't own _Passions_. If I did, well, it would've turned out quite differently.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-One: "Misguided Machinations"**

_Her schedule is so predictable_, Drew thought as he watched Theresa run by him wearing headphones, oblivious to the people around her. Each morning, around seven a.m. she made her way down the beach. He would "happen" to run into her. Granted, the first time he did run into her was a happy coincidence, or serendipity, as Theresa would call it. The powers that be, if they be, were looking out for him, and he knew it.

Smiling to himself, he marveled at his unbelievable luck. Everything was falling into place...or at least it would fall into place just as soon as he smoothed things over. He could curse himself for the way he left things off with her. He shuddered to think that his conscience could possibly be getting in the way. Unthinkable. Simply unthinkable.

He was losing his focus, and that was something he could not afford to do. No more, he promised himself. It was going to be all business with Theresa. Granted, his business would be pleasurable, but it would be business nonetheless.

He stifled a yawn and silently lamented the fact that Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald was such an early bird. He hadn't returned to his hotel room until well into the wee hours of the morning. His nocturnal habits were not well suited to his purpose.

Falling into step with Theresa, he waited for her to turn her attention to him.

Licking his lips, he noticed the thin layer of perspiration on her forehead and chest. There was something very attractive about that. Almost primal, he decided. Yes, the task ahead of him would be pleasurable, indeed.

* * *

_I am so ready to just put the past behind me_, Theresa thought as she looked at the stretch of beach ahead of her. Not exactly an easy task, she realized. Particularly considering that she had returned to Harmony, the site of so many memories. Yet what better way was there to face her demons?

And face them she had.

It wasn't getting any easier to be around Ethan. He still surprised her, and she felt her guard go down around him. Bringing up so much of the past had been difficult for her to face. He constantly reminded her of the girl she had once been; the girl she could no longer be.

It was almost like fighting against her very nature. She still wanted to believe in fairy tales and happy endings. Unfortunately, she was old enough and had enough life experience to know that there was no such thing. That didn't stop her from wanting it, though.

There was too much of a past in Harmony, but she was no longer haunted by the questions that had once haunted her. She had no future with Ethan, and the truth of the matter is that she never would have had a future with him even if she had stayed in Harmony. Too many lies existed between them.

It was time to look to the future. So many possibilities lay ahead of her, and she was almost giddy with anticipation. The boutique would be opening soon, and she was excited about that prospect. Her entire heart and soul had been poured into the shop, and finally all of her hard work was going to pay off.

Luis and Sheridan's baby would also be arriving soon. When she thought of all they went through to be together, it made her want to believe in true love all the more. In many ways, her big brother had been more like a father to her. Theresa knew without a doubt in her mind that he would be the best papa ever. Though he might at times be domineering, he had so much love in his heart to give.

And then there was Chad and Whitney's upcoming wedding. Theresa couldn't believe that her best friends were finally getting married! She remembered a time when Whitney lived and breathed tennis. There was no room for anything else in her life. How times changed! She and Ethan had always believed that they would be together, and now the time was coming.

_Ethan_. The name stuck in her mind, and Theresa tried to force it out. Their lives were still so connected, whether they liked it or not.

What would it be like to stand at the altar with him at Chad and Whitney's wedding? And what would it be like to walk down the aisle in the church with him? She always knew they would be in that situation together, but she had always assumed that the circumstances would be different. It would be their wedding.

_Stop! Where are these crazy thoughts coming from? Ethan is very much married to Gwen!_ Theresa reminded herself.

From the corner of her eye, she saw someone moving toward her. Turning her head, she was surprised to see Drew Winthrop.

Easily falling into step with her, Drew grinned, and Theresa felt her heart do a flip-flop.

* * *

Theresa found herself doing something she hadn't done in a long time: singing in the shower. It had been a long time since she'd felt like singing, but her morning run had been an exceptionally good one.

She was relieved to see Drew again. It seemed a strange feeling to have, and she knew it, but it was relief nonetheless. There was something about him that she found very appealing. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was definitely something there. Yet after the way things had ended last time she saw him, she wasn't so sure she would see him again. What a wonderful coincidence that she had encountered him that morning! It set her mind at ease and gave her something to look forward to for the rest of the day.

When Drew appeared alongside her and apologized for his abrupt departure of the other night, Theresa was delighted. They planned to see each other that very night.

Humming, Theresa dressed and walked downstairs to the kitchen to prepare a quick breakfast. Serendipity watched her, seemingly startled by her change in demeanor. She danced around the kitchen, taking a bowl from the cupboard and a spoon from a drawer.

When the telephone rang, he hardly missed a beat, still cheerful and humming. Picking up the receiver, she said pleasantly, "Hello?"

"Theresa, this is Ivy Crane," came the reply.

The music in her heart came to a screeching halt. She had known this moment would come, but knowing something was an inevitability and facing an inevitability were two completely different matters altogether.

"M-Mrs. Crane, hello," Theresa replied, nervously.

"I'm glad I caught you," Ivy said. Her voice was neither warm nor cold. "I need to speak with you. Could you stop by the house in say...an hour?"

Theresa hesitated. "I suppose I could."

"Good. I'll see you then."

Numbly, Theresa hung up the phone. Looking at her cat she asked, "Serendipity, did Mrs. Crane really just call me?"

She groaned, having lost her appetite.

* * *

Theresa felt as though she were returning to the scene of the crime. An odd sensation, indeed. As she stood outside the front entrance of the Crane Mansion, she still felt as overwhelmed as she had the first day. Could anyone ever get used to living in such splendor? At one time, she thought she wanted to live in splendor...a castle for a fairy tale princess. How times changed.

Taking a deep breath, she rang the doorbell. A woman dressed in a maid's uniform answered the door. Though she knew it was illogical, she half expected her mother to be there. Pilar Lopez-Fitzgerald had spent the better part of her life in the service of the Crane Family; loyal, perhaps to a fault.

"Please come in, Ma'am."

"Thank you," Theresa said warmly to the woman. The woman appeared weary; downtrodden, even. Theresa wished she could take those feelings away. Of course, having to be around Julian or Gwen all the time might do that to a person, Theresa thought wryly.

"Mrs. Crane will be with you shortly. Would you like to wait in the living room?"

"That would be fine," Theresa said following the woman into the living room. Little had changed in the years she had been gone. However, she did notice several new photos on the mantle. One featured photograph, in particular, caught Theresa's attention. It was Ethan and Gwen's wedding portrait.

_"I still believe in you, Ethan."_

The words popped into her head before she realized it.

Theresa swallowed hard, having never seen the portrait before. It brought back a flood of emotions, emotions she would rather forget. Looking around the room, she could feel the ghosts in the room with her. She still remembered when Ethan and Frank Lomax thought she was a stalker. It was in the living room that her masquerade ended and that Ethan had protected her. It was in the living room that Ethan had told her that her eyes were exquisite. It was in the living room that she and Ethan had shared so many laughs and dreams.

And it was in the living room that Ethan and Gwen's wedding portrait was displayed.

"May I get you something to drink while you wait?" the maid asked, her voice interrupting Theresa's thoughts.

"No thank you," Theresa said quietly.

The woman scurried from the room, and Theresa settled on the sofa. Closing her eyes, trying to gather her strength, she took in a deep breath. She desperately hoped that neither Ethan nor Gwen would come home to find her there.

She was still perplexed by Ivy Crane's call. Theresa could only imagine what Ivy had to say to her. Regardless of what it was, Theresa was determined to hold her head high. If Ivy called her to chastise her for her involvement with Ethan, so be it. If Ivy had called her to accuse her of being a gold-digger, so be it.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the lovely Theresa?"

Theresa's eyes popped open as Julian Crane settled next to her on the sofa.

He looked at her as though nothing had ever happened between their families, as though he wasn't a man who had conspired to keep the truth of her father's disappearance from the Lopez-Fitzgerald family for nearly twenty years. Julian Crane didn't look like a man who lost sleep over a guilty conscience.

"Mr. Crane," Theresa replied, her voice stilted and formal. Her stomach turned when she thought of the night she and Ethan had gone to Bermuda to check on honeymoon resorts. Julian showed up in her room and tried to seduce her. How could she have been so naïve? Perhaps it was for the best that she had been oblivious to his advances at the time. Otherwise, she might have never recovered from the fright.

Standing, she began to walk toward the patio, eager to put distance between them.

"Please," he replied with a smile, "call me Julian. I think we've known each other long enough to do away with formalities. Besides, I would like for us to get to know each other…better."

"I don't think so, Mr. Crane," Theresa replied quietly.

_Where was Mrs. Crane? _

Theresa wished Ivy would hurry and greet her, even if she was going to be greeted with a firing squad.

"Come now, Theresa, I don't bite," Julian replied, stretching his arms out on the couch. Theresa glanced back at him. He seemed both confident and casual. Yet he still exuded smarminess.

"I'm sure if my father were here, he would disagree with that statement." Her voice was icy, and Julian was taken aback by the coldness in her normally warm, brown eyes. He found both the challenge and her to be very attractive.

"I have no idea what you could mean by that," Julian responded with obviously feigned indignation. "The news of your father's fate was just as surprising to me as to everyone else."

"Oh, of course. How foolish of me," Theresa replied evenly. "Let me ask you this. Have you ever noticed how hollow your words sound?"

Julian sniffed.

"And here I thought you were the most reasonable member of the Lopez-Fitzgerald litter," Julian commented. "Certainly you're the most delectable. You know, Theresa, I could make you life very comfortable...and pleasurable."

Theresa wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Does that actually work with women, Mr. Crane? Somehow, I don't see how you could make me feel comfort or pleasure when the very sight of you overwhelms me with nausea."

Julian laughed. "You are a fiery one, aren't you? At least I can take delight in knowing that Ethan has sampled your goods. I don't suppose you were so high and mighty with him, were you?"

"My relationship with Ethan is none of your business!"

"A 'relationship' is it?" Julian asked. "What a quaint name for it."

"Don't presume to comment on matters you know nothing about."

Julian stood and poured himself a brandy. "I must tell you, Theresa, the changes in you are remarkable. I always liked the innocent, submissive girl you were because I theorized that underneath you were a tigress waiting to emerge. But now I know I was right."

"And my brother Luis always said that the Cranes were evil. I never wanted to believe him, but now I know he was right. At least, where you're concerned."

Julian rolled his eyes. "Sticks and stones..."

"The truth will come out someday, Mr. Crane."

Her words surprised him, reminding him of words that someone else had spoken to him. Brushing aside the eerie feeling, he said, "You and your sister-in-law, Charity, really do need to come up with more original retorts, Theresa."

Theresa crossed her arms. "Charity said that to you, too?"

"Yes, though she had a strange look about her that you didn't. Perhaps that's what marriage to a fool will do to a person. Though I don't suppose that is entirely true. After all, I've been married to a fool for more years than I care to remember, and I've only grown more handsome as the years have gone by."

Theresa opened her mouth to respond, when she heard Ivy Crane's voice.

"Theresa!" Ivy walked to Theresa, kissing her on either cheek.

Theresa looked at her former employer and was stunned by the woman's beauty and the reception she received.

"Hello, Mrs. Crane."

"Please. Call me Ivy," she instructed.

Ivy stepped back and looked closely at Theresa. "You are simply stunning, my dear. You've grown into such a lovely young woman."

Theresa had to remind herself not to let her mouth hang, as surprised as she was.

"Th-thank you, Mrs. Cr-I mean, Ivy."

Ivy looked over at her husband who was listening to the exchange while drinking his alcohol of choice. "I'm terribly sorry to have left you for so long with this libertine." She sneered when her eyes fell on her husband, but as she looked back at Theresa, her features softened. "Forgive me?"

"I was fine," Theresa stated.

"Good, good. Please, come upstairs with me. We have much to talk about, much catching up to do."

Theresa followed Ivy in silence, wondering what this meeting was about.

Once they entered Ivy's chambers, Ivy glanced over at her ornate desk and commented, "Please forgive the mess. I'm simply so disorganized while between secretaries. Between you and me, I've never found another one like you, Theresa."

Theresa smiled weakly, still uneasy about the intent of the meeting. "Thank you, Mrs. Crane. It's nice to know that you thought I did a good job."

"Of course you did, and it's Ivy. Remember?"

The two ladies sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace. Turning to Ivy, Theresa finally voiced her feelings. "I have to admit that I'm perplexed, Ivy. Why did you call me?"

"Well, it's been over five years since we've seen each other, and you mother is my dearest friend. I was eager to catch up with you."

"I don't mean any disrespect by this, but I've been back in Harmony for several months now. If you were so eager to see me, why did you wait this long?"

Ivy smiled and shook her head. "Few things escape your notice. You always did have an eye for detail. Very well. I shall get straight to the point." Taking a deep breath, she continued. "I asked you here because I have been made aware that you know my secret."

Theresa still remembered the day she learned Ivy's secret. Ethan had been so devastated to discover that he was Sam Bennett's son, and he felt as though his very existence was a lie. She'd held him that night, willing his pain to go away, just wishing that her very persistence of thought could make the pain disappear.

Theresa looked Ivy squarely in the eyes and said, "Yes, I do know."

"When Ethan told me the other day that you knew, I wasn't sure what to do. I debated with myself about whether I should even broach this subject with you. I finally decided that I couldn't let it go. I need to hear your intentions, Theresa."

"My intentions?" Theresa repeated.

"Yes, your intentions," Ivy sighed. She stood and began to pace. "I can't tell you how many sleepless nights I've spent worrying about the chance that this could get out. When I think that I almost told Sam those years ago..." her voice trailed off. "I used to underestimate Alistair and Julian, but no more." Ivy thought to Martin Fitzgerald's fate and her heart went out to Pilar and Pilar's daughter, who was before her now.

"You're afraid."

"Wouldn't you be?" Ivy demanded. "Ethan was always my revenge on the Crane men. It did my heart good to know that the son of the man I love would one day inherit all of this," she said extending her arms. "In fact, that knowledge kept me in a marriage to a man I despise because I knew that someday it would all be worth it."

"Ivy, these are all just things. It's never been Ethan's ambition to be 'the' Crane heir, and there's so much more to him than his responsibilities and everyone's expectations of him."

Ivy was stunned by Theresa's words. They hinted, not only at a familiarity and attachment that had once been, but a familiarity and attachment that still existed. Was it possible that Theresa was still in love with Ethan?

"You're right, of course," Ivy said. "It's just that I don't know what will happen to my son if it is discovered that he's not a Crane. Men like Alistair Crane are not often played for fools. I can assure you that the would do more to Ethan than a simple disinheriting."

"And to you."

"And to me."

"It's not going to come to that."

"Does that mean you will keep my secret?" Ivy asked, hope rising in her voice.

Theresa nodded. "It's not my secret to tell. I don't want to see anything bad happen to Ethan...or to you. And I don't want to see Chief Bennett's family get torn apart. They've already had so much to deal with since Kay passed away."

"Yes," Ivy said simply, remembering the haunted look on Sam's face at his oldest daughter's funeral. She'd never seen him look so pained and had desperately wished she could make his heartache go away. She'd also seen how Ethan had been affected; how he'd regretted that he would never have the opportunity to know his sister. Damn those secrets!

"I care about what happens, Ivy. I wouldn't do that to you."

Ivy smiled weakly. "You have so much of your mother in you."

Theresa felt flushed. It was the best compliment anyone could have ever given her.

"How is she, by the way? I haven't spoken to her in several weeks."

"Miguel received an e-mail from her a few days ago. She seems happy, and she's moving on with her life. In fact, she has a new beau named Eduardo. I don't know how serious it is, but there are always possibilities."

* * *

Drew timed his arrival at Theresa's house at a strategic 7:09 p.m.; not too late to be insulting yet definitely and deliberately not on time. Arriving early, of course, was unthinkable. It could be disastrous if a woman had the idea that he was eager to be with her. No, Theresa was the type of woman who enjoyed a challenge and enjoyed doing some challenging of her own. It would never do to be too eager.

Theresa was running late, the result of her meeting with Ivy and the minor crises that only she could avert at the boutique. When she finally managed to get home at 6:58, she was glad that Drew had not arrived yet. In fact, when the doorbell rang at 7:09, she groaned, wishing he could have been a few minutes later. As it was, she had just managed to pull on her black dress, she was shoeless, and to top it off, Serendipity was protesting her scurrying about the house with plaintive meows.

When she opened the door, she greeted Drew distractedly. "Hi, Drew. I'm sorry I'm not ready yet. It's been a crazy day!"

She had to remind herself to smile. This was supposed to be a date, after all. But she had been dwelling on the events of the day. If she never saw another Crane, it would be too soon.

So much for his grand entrance.

Drew raised an eyebrow, unused to such a casual greeting. Still, he had to remind himself that Theresa was a special case, and it wasn't a date purely for the purpose of socializing.

Theresa began to walk back through the house. "If you want something to drink, help yourself to anything in the frig," she offered, already heading back up the stairs toward her bedroom.

Drew shook his head. He barely had the chance to get a glimpse of her.

He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small, stuffed animal. It was a wildcat, wearing a blue sweater with the letters HHS on it...Harmony High School.

He often bought tokens for his dates. He found it made them more receptive.

Walking toward the kitchen, he placed the stuffed toy on the kitchen counter in plain view. He was certain Theresa would notice it immediately and be quite grateful. In fact, that was what he was planning on.

Smiling smugly to himself, he turned away for a moment and glanced out the windows to the ocean, which lay about 100 feet beyond the house. It was something else that caught his eye a moment later, however. A ball of fur, virtually flying past him jumped onto the kitchen counter and snatched the small stuffed animal.

Drew groaned. "Hey Cat. You can't do that." He was careful to keep his voice low, however. One thing his father had always taught him was that it was unbecoming to scold a date's pet.

Serendipity was undeterred. He took the Harmony High mascot and ran with it to a hiding place underneath the sofa. He then began with his plaintive meows once again.

Serendipity continued to yowl until Theresa made her way down the stairs, still shoeless. On her hands and knees before the couch, Theresa tried to coax Serendipity out. "Sweet baby, what's the matter?" Theresa cooed as her cat came from his hiding place and into her arms.

Drew rolled his eyes. She gave the cat more attention than she gave him. He knew he had his work cut out for him.

He dropped his gaze and looked at her...really looked at her...for the first time that evening. She looked stunning. Her sleeveless, fitted black dress teased him. The dress left enough to the imagination, but it did seem to hint at the promise of more.

Theresa's dark hair was piled atop her head, accentuating her long, slender neck.

His gaze dropped even further to her shapely legs made strong by exercise. He looked forward to having those legs wrapped around him.

"Serendipity can be shy around strangers," Theresa said by way of explanation.

Looking back down at the floor, something caught her eye.

Was that a stuffed toy?

Extracting the Harmony High mascot, she looked at Drew with surprise.

"Did you bring this?" she asked.

"I did, but next time I'll be sure to bring something for you, too," he replied, tongue-in-cheek.

Theresa laughed, and Drew couldn't help but notice how her features transformed when she did and how warm her laughter made him feel. Yes, he understood why his brother was so enamored with Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald_. Too bad Ethan doesn't have the gumption to do anything about it_, Drew mused.

"Well, I thank you, nonetheless," she said approaching him. Standing on her tip-toes, she placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. She was surprised at her reaction to his nearness. Of course, Drew Winthrop was always surprising her in one way or another. Though her kiss was meant to be chaste, she let it linger. "It was a very sweet gesture."

Drew looked down at her, his turquoise eyes meeting her dark brown ones. She had a perplexed look on her face.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

She hesitated before replying, "No...it's just that you remind me of someone. There's something about you. I-I can't quite put my finger on it, but it's definitely there." She laughed nervously. "I'm sorry! I know I must sound like a broken record. I'm going to go upstairs and get my shoes. I'll be back in a moment."

Theresa returned a few minutes later, wearing shoes and carrying a gray wrap and her purse.

Drew took in a breath. Theresa looked like a vision, a goddess. "You look beautiful tonight."

Theresa smiled, her features gaining a faint rosy color. "Thank you," she replied. "I owe you an apology."

"For what?" he asked.

"For being such a terrible hostess. I'm usually much more on top of things."

_Yes, that was exactly where he wanted her_, he thought. But he said, "No need to apologize. I understand completely."

Theresa turned to slip her wrap around her arms. Drew watched her graceful movements, and felt a jolt of electricity run through him.

Unable to resist, he laid his hands on her shoulders, drawing her back to him. Inhaling the scent of hair, he ran his hands down her arms, taking the wrap and tossing it aside. Gently, he turned her around to face him. He halfway expected to meet resistance in her eyes, but he was met with a dreamy, doe-eyed look instead.

Tracing her lips with his fingers, he cupped her face, eager to taste her kiss.


	32. Chapter 32

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I truly appreciate them! :)

Disclaimer: You guys know I don't own _Passions_. If I did, well, it would've turned out quite differently.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Two: "Anywhere But Here"**

Squeezing between the aisle of produce and another shopper, Gwen groaned. "I still don't understand why Cook couldn't have done the shopping for us."

Ethan smiled. "We've already been through this. Pilar used to always say that the only way to make _arroz con pollo_ was to go out and choose the ingredients yourself. It's the only way to guarantee that it will turn out right."

Gwen took Ethan's arm. "I never realized my husband was such a culinary expert. You don't often show this side of yourself."

"Well, I'm hardly an expert, but I've learned a thing or two through the years." And he had. Spending time with Theresa while she was planning his wedding to Gwen afforded him the opportunity to indulge in activities he rarely ever did. Cooking was one of those. And laughing... And singing... And being himself...

Gwen looked around her, uncomfortable in her environment. "I know that you say it's the only way to guarantee that the arroz con pollo will turn out right, but I'm just not used to grocery shopping. Especially not in a place like this," she said, stretching out her arm and indicating _El Mercado de Mateo_.

"Pilar swears by this place. Besides, she always bought her Spanish rice and spices from here, and you know remember how good her cooking is."

Gwen did remember, though she would rather forget. The last time she'd eaten arroz con pollo was the night Theresa had Ethan and her over for supper. It made her angry to think that it was all a ploy to be near Ethan, and they had both fallen for it.

Gwen nodded. "I remember."

They continued down the aisle, but stopped to pick up dried hot peppers used for flavoring the rice. Suddenly, she heard high-pitched voices and the sound of little feet running.

"Uncle Ethan! Uncle Ethan!"

Ethan turned around upon hearing his name and saw Hope and Joy Lopez-Fitzgerald running toward him. He kneeled and they ran into his arms.

"Uncle Ethan?" Gwen asked. "Ethan, who are these children?"

It was at that moment that Gwen saw Miguel and Charity round the corner. Looking back at the children, she knew. They were Lopez-Fitzgerald children. How could I be so blind? They look like little Theresas, she thought with disdain.

Gwen had to work to keep the frown off her face as she saw Theresa's brother and sister-in-law approaching. It would never do to show anything other than a united front with Ethan. After all, she couldn't have Miguel and Charity reporting to Theresa about her.

It was a difficult task. The Lopez-Fitzgeralds were everywhere! Gwen was certain that if nuclear disaster were to ever strike the earth on a global scale, two things would survive: cockroaches and the Lopez-Fitzgerald family. And both were terrible pests.

"Hope, Joy, what are you doing?" Miguel asked when he saw his daughters with Ethan and Gwen. Miguel might not have hated Ethan and the other Cranes with the same passion that Luis did, but Miguel was wary of all of them, especially Ethan. He would never forget how devastated Theresa had been by Ethan's sudden callousness. He was just glad that Theresa had not seen or spent time with Ethan Crane, as far as he knew.

"We had to see Uncle Ethan," Joy replied, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

"Uncle Ethan?" Miguel asked looking at Ethan and motioning for his girls to come to him. "Why did they just call you that?"

Gwen forced a smile on her face. "Yes, Ethan, I'd like the know the same thing."

Ethan looked to his wife and then back to Miguel. Swallowing hard, he knew there were no good explanations. Though his meeting with Theresa in the park had been accidental and completely innocent, he knew it would not appear that way to his wife or to Theresa's brother.

"We met each other in the park," Ethan said carefully. "I had a meeting with a client that was cancelled. I ran into the girls there. Actually, it was more like Hope ran into me."

"Oh," Charity piped up looking at Miguel, "that must have been the day Theresa took the girls to the park."

Ethan looked up at the ceiling of the market wishing to be any place but there. He knew what Gwen's reaction would be.

"Really, Ethan," said Gwen. It was a statement, not a question. "You saw Theresa." Gwen knew sharpness was creeping into her voice, but she was almost to the point that she didn't care anymore. Why did he keep this from her?

"Oh, yes," Hope said walking to Gwen and looking up at her. "Uncle Ethan loves our _tia_."

Ethan looked up at the ceiling once again and muttered, "I don't believe this."

Miguel was having a similar reaction. Now he understood how his mother must have felt when, as a child, he told Julian Crane that he thought Mr. Crane looked mean.

Gwen's jaw clenched as she kneeled down to look the child in the eyes. "Sweetie," she said forcing cheerfulness into her voice, "did Uncle Ethan say this to you?"

The child met Gwen's gaze, and Gwen felt an uneasiness encompass her. She felt as though Hope could see into her soul, and it was unnerving to say the least.

"He didn't say it. I just know," Hope said.

"I see," Gwen replied, feeling some of the tension leaving her. What could this child possibly know? There was no need to worry. Her relief was all too brief, however.

Hope looked at her, a stormy expression marring her luminous brown eyes. "I know what you did," she whispered.

Gwen jolted up and looked around her to see if the others had heard. Apparently not. Ethan looked like he would rather be anywhere else than where he was. Miguel had a similar expression on his face. Charity was merely smiling sweetly, though rather blankly, Gwen thought.

Why would she say that? Was it truly possible? Gwen had heard that Charity Lopez-Fitzgerald had certain intuitive powers. Could her daughter also possess those abilities? And if so, does she know? Does she really know?

_Don't be ridiculous!_ the voice of reason interjected. _You're getting anxious over the words of a child. She's probably just playing a game._

"Hope, Joy, we need to find the _papas fritas_ you wanted," Miguel said, interrupting the exchange.

Hope looked back at her father, the strange expression gone. All that was left was the exuberance of a child knowing she was about to get a treat. "Yeah! _Papas fritas_! Can we get _naranjas_, too?"

"We'll see," Miguel promised, eager to get his children away from the Cranes.

"Goodbye, Hope. Goodbye, Joy," Gwen said, determined to keep up a cheerful persona.

"Bye-bye!" Joy waved before taking her mother's hand.

Hope merely looked back at Gwen, the strange expression returning to her face.

Gwen felt a chill run down her spine. _She knows_.

* * *

"I still can't believe you didn't tell me that you ran into Theresa at the park, Ethan!" Gwen hissed as they walked into the mansion.

"We've been over this time and time again, Gwen. It was completely innocent, but I was afraid you would overreact if you knew."

"Overreact? So you chose to keep the information secret...for my own good?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm. She shook her head. "Please, Ethan, don't you see that there is no such thing as innocent where Theresa is concerned? She is tearing us apart!"

"No, she isn't, Gwen. Your jealousy is."

Ethan began to walk out of the room.

Gwen sighed. "Ethan, where are you going?"

"Out. I've suddenly lost my appetite," he replied.

"Fine, Ethan. Run. Run like you always do!" Gwen fought back the tears. "Damn it! Damn it all to hell!"

The evening had begun with so much promise. Now it was reduced to this; another petty squabble. How she longed for things to be the way they used to be!

She wasn't sure how much more she could take. It was obvious to her that Ethan was enamored with Theresa and was possibly even carrying on an affair. Her horrible brother-in-law had turned up, just like a bad penny, eager to remind her of things she would rather forget. Oh, and Ethan was probably on his way to talk with Chad, who would undoubtedly fill her husband's mind with the virtues of the strumpet Theresa. No, it wasn't one of her better weeks.

Julian meandered into the entry hall, carrying his habitual glass of brandy. "I see you and Ethan made it home. Correction. You made it home, but Ethan's gone again. My, my. I must say that you've set a new record."

"I'm not in the mood for you right now, Julian," Gwen said walking past him.

"Is there ever a good time these days, my dear?"

Gwen whirled around and pointed at him. "This is all your fault! If you hadn't been pushing Ethan toward that little slut before he married me, none of this would be going on now!"

"He's a Crane man, Gwen. Considering your own father's checkered past, you, better than anyone else, should know that you are expected to look the other way at a husband's indiscretions."

"That's just it. I shouldn't have to look the other way," Gwen said. "And you know what? I'm not going to. If Theresa wants a fight, she'll get one."

Julian chuckled. "Wohoho. This I would love to see! Perhaps we could even divvy ring-side seats. What an attention getter this would be! Anything for charity, you know." He stood beside her and playfully punched her arm. "Meow!"

"Oh, shut up," Gwen replied, rolling her eyes and turning away from him.

"Then I suppose you don't want to hear the juicy details of today's events," Julian said.

"Nothing you say could possibly interest me."

"Really? Even if it involves the lovely Theresa?"

Gwen's head jerked back around.

Julian smirked. "I thought that would get your attention."

"Spill it."

Julian looked around him, stalling. "Well, let's see if I can remember.."

"Now, Julian!" Gwen said.

"Oh, very well. The scrumptious Theresa paid a visit here today."

"No doubt to try to see Ethan," Gwen murmured.

"Actually…no. She was here to see my wife."

"Unbelievable! Theresa is forcing herself on Ivy, trying to gain her support. Well, I'm sure Ivy put that little gold-digger back in her place," Gwen said with a smile of satisfaction on her face.

Julian sneered. "Wrong again."

"What do you mean?"

"It was Ivy who summoned Theresa here. In fact, Ivy greeted her like a long-lost friend. Very touching, indeed."

Gwen swallowed hard. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Not only had Theresa trespassed into her home, but she was welcomed?

She began pacing nervously.

This couldn't be happening.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

"Go to hell, you drunken old sot!" she hissed. She looked at the ceiling. "Why is it that the lushes always survive to make everyone else miserable?"

"You sound more and more like Ivy each day," Julian said letting her words roll off his back as he took another sip from his brandy.

Gwen shook her head. "I've got to get out of here!" Hurriedly, she grabbed her purse before heading out the door.

Julian watched her go. "Never a dull moment."

* * *

Theresa felt chills of anticipation run through her as Drew ran his hands over her bare arms. It was a simple gesture, but there was nothing simple about the man himself. Feeling her breath catch within her, she allowed him to turn her around to face him. Tenderly, his thumb grazed her lips.

It felt so good.

She closed her eyes, reveling in the moment. Opening her eyes once again, she could see the desire in his turquoise eyes.

He wanted her.

Slipping one arm around her waist, Drew deftly closed the gap between them. His long fingers slipped from her lips and ran the length of her neck before resting at her nape. "I've wanted to touch you so badly," he murmured huskily as he touched his lips to hers so lightly and gently, she almost thought she'd imagined it. He breathed the words softly, seductively, as his mouth continued its languid, confident caress of her lips, her cheeks, the curve of her jaw. "I've wanted to taste you so much," he added before masterfully taking possession of her mouth.

Her lips opened under his as she felt him run his hand down the small of her back, sending waves of pleasure through her. His tongue slipped into her mouth, eager to explore her inner softness and warmth.

Theresa clung to him, drowning in the kiss that grew deeper and hungrier. Her head was swimming with sensations; sensations she hadn't felt in so long. She could lose herself in him..

It had been so long...

So long...

Not since...

Chuck. His image filled her mind, and an indescribable feeling of loss and guilt overwhelmed her.

_No!_ her mind screamed.

She pushed away from him.

Drew looked at her, his breathing fast and shallow. His body ached and throbbed with intense sexual need. He'd never gotten so excited so fast and from mere kissing. What had started out as a light, playful, experimental kiss, begun as a means to an end, had quickly turned into something else entirely.

"I-I'm sorry, Drew. I'm just not ready...," her voice trailed off. She walked to the table and picked up a framed photo of her engagement picture to Chuck. Tracing the edges, she then held it to her chest before placing it back on the table.

"You're thinking of your fiancé."

She nodded. "You're the first man I've kissed since he died, and I just don't know if I'm ready to feel everything that comes along with that."

Unconsciously she touched the diamond ring she wore on her left hand.

Drew raised an eyebrow. Damn, he wanted her. It had been-what?-about a year since she'd been kissed. To go that long without making love, let alone being kissed, was a foreign and unpleasant concept to him. Yet he could feel her hunger in her kiss. It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced, and he knew that she was a woman who liked to be held.

If he could just get her defenses down...

Closing in the space between them, Drew took her hand in his. Gently stroking her hand with his thumb, he said, "When the time is right, you'll know it."

She took in a breath, still reeling from the sensations coursing through her. And he was so close...

"W-we should leave for dinner," she said putting distance between them. She wasn't sure she could trust herself where Drew Winthrop was concerned.

Drew watched in amusement as the emotions played across Theresa's features. _She's like an open book. Everything she thinks shows itself on her face. And right now, she wants me. _

_No, this shouldn't take much longer._

_

* * *

_

"Mother, I have just about had it!" Gwen said as she paced the living room of her parents' mansion. "I don't know how much more I can take."

"Gwen, just calm down and tell me what's wrong," her mother replied in a saccharine sweet voice, belying a shrewd mind.

"Ethan saw Theresa at the park, but didn't tell me about it. Obviously he was trying to keep it from me."

Rebecca raised an eyebrow. "How, pray tell, did you find out?"

Gwen rolled her eyes. "We saw Theresa's bratty little nieces at the store. Oh, you should have seen it. It was so horrible! They came running up to him, practically jumped in his arms, and called him Uncle Ethan."

Rebecca tapped her fingers to her lips. "Oh dear."

Gwen smiled harshly. "Oh, but it gets better. One of the girls…Hope was her name…had the strangest look on her face. She told me that Ethan loved Theresa and a moment later told me that she knew what I had done."

Rebecca laughed lightly and put an arm around her daughter. "Oh, sweetheart, she's just a child! You're getting all worked up over nothing. What could she possibly know?"

"Normally I would agree with you, but you should have seen the look in her eyes, Mother. It was almost eerie."

"Regardless of that, she's still a child. And besides, if she's a Lopez-Fitzgerald, how smart can she be?" Rebecca smirked.

Gwen chewed on her bottom lip nervously. "Well, I'm inclined to think that Theresa is pretty damn clever. She still has Ethan wrapped around her little finger, doesn't she? And I've also heard about Charity having this amazing intuition. What if her daughter is the same way? I mean, what if she really does know what we did?"

Rebecca frowned, anger creeping into her voice. "It is impossible, Gwen. She is no danger to us."

"But..."

"But nothing. The only danger I see right now is coming from a daughter who is letting her petty insecurities run away with her. You simply must get a hold of yourself. Otherwise everything we've worked so hard to accomplish will be for nothing. You will drive Ethan straight into Theresa's arms, if you haven't already done so. And you better believe that the Cranes will toss you out like yesterday's pâté."

Gwen felt her lip tremble. "I'm so tired of all this."

Rebecca stroked Gwen's forehead. "I know, Darling. I know."

"Ethan doesn't even know about the country club fiasco yet. I don't know what he'll do when he does find out! He'll probably run out and make sure that his fragile Theresa isn't broken."

A small smile crept onto Rebecca's face.

Gwen didn't like it when her mother had that particular look on her face. It reminded her of the _Mona Lisa_ and was very difficult to read.

"Mother?"

Rebecca clasped her hands together. "Tell me, Gwen, have you given anymore thought to my suggestion that you make Ethan a 'proud papa'?"

"A little," Gwen admitted in a small voice.

"Well, stop thinking about it, and start doing something about it," Rebecca said.

"I don't know, Mother," Gwen hedged.

"Well, I do. You take care of Ethan, and I'll take care of that little gold-digger."

"God, Mother! What are you going to do?"

Rebecca patted Gwen's face. "Just leave that up to me, dear."

* * *

"You know, Eth, if you keep up that frown, you're gonna scare 'way all my customers," Chad said as he rounded the bar in Brazen and took a seat across the table from his friend.

Ethan sighed. "I just don't get it, Chad. How do I always do this to myself…and to Gwen?"

"Do what?" Chad asked. Looking at his friend, it was obvious to see the turmoil he was in. Course if I had to live with his wife, I'm sure I'd be in turmoil, too, he added to himself. That Gwen is one scary chick.

Ethan ignored his friend's question, lost in his own wandering thoughts. "I should have told her right after it happened."

Chad face broke out into a big grin. "Whoa, Ethan, my man. Wait a minute! You and Theresa 'got together' if you know what I mean?"

Chad's words penetrated Ethan's thoughts and he looked at his friend with a look of disbelief. "No! Of course not! I was talking about how I should have told Gwen that I saw Theresa. Now she's all upset, no doubt thinking the worst."

Chad shook his head. "Dude, you've got one messed up love life."

"Tell me about it," Ethan grimaced. "I'm starting to think that I have so many skeletons in my closet, I could open up my own cemetery."

Chad chuckled. "Can't be as bad as all that."

"No. It's worse. I ran into Theresa the other day in the park, and she had her nieces with her."

"Miguel and Charity's girls?"

"Yes, they're the ones. It was just a coincidence, Chad. It certainly wasn't anything we planned. Theresa was having a hard time carrying all of their things, so I helped. It was no big deal."

"But."

"But this evening when I was at the grocery store with Gwen, we ran into Theresa's nieces. Hope promptly told Gwen that I loved her aunt, which, as you can imagine, upset Gwen terribly."

Yes, Chad could imagine Gwen being upset. What he couldn't imagine was Gwen Crane in a grocery store. It was almost comical, and he had to force himself to keep from laughing at the thought.

"Oh, yeah. I get the picture."

"And it really was just a coincidence, Chad. I knew Gwen wouldn't take it the right way, so I didn't tell her."

"Which made her all the more angry when she found out."

"Exactly."

"An accident, huh?"

"Of course," Ethan replied quickly.

"I don't know. Sounds more like fate to me. Then with the kid sayin' you love Theresa and all. I mean, how would she know unless all of this was meant to happen?"

Ethan crossed his arms. "All right. Who are you and what have you done with my friend? I thought you believed people made their own fates."

"I do….to a certain extent. But let's face it. You and Theresa are still connected, and no matter how hard you try to deny it, there's still sometin' that keeps pullin' you back together."

"That's ridiculous. I've moved on with my life, and Theresa is moving on with hers."

"Right, right. So if that's true, why do you still think about her, eh?"

"I don't know. Could it be because my friends keep mentioning her to me?"

"Nah, man. You did this all on your own. I don't have to mention Theresa for you to be thinkin' about her. She's never far from you mind, and me and you both know that."

Ethan bristled. "Chad, I appreciate your friendship, but there's nothing between Theresa and me. She could walk in here tonight, and I wouldn't feel a thing."

"Really?" Chad asked, his eyes moving toward the entrance.

"Absolutely."

Chad smiled, seeing Theresa walk in with a tall blond haired man, the man Chad had seen her with before. There was such a thing as fate!

"Looks like this is your chance to prove it. She just showed up, and she's a-lookin' pretty cozy with her companion."


	33. Chapter 33

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I truly appreciate them, and I also enjoy reading your reactions and theories.

For those of you who are on the fence where Drew is concerned, this chapter probably won't solve that issue for you. LOL. He was a fun character to create all those years ago. Shades of Fox before there was a Fox, I guess you could say.

Disclaimer: You guys know I don't own _Passions_. If I did, well, it would've turned out quite differently.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Three: Monkeys Always Look**

Ethan laughed. "Good try, Chad, but I'm not falling for it."

Chad shook his head and pointed, "Nah, man. I'm tellin' you the truth." His brown eyes followed Theresa and her date as they started to walk behind the columns that ran across the edge of the room.

"Right. And of course this isn't a ploy for you to try to get me to 'admit' my 'true' feelings for Theresa."

"Would you stop bein' so damn contrary and look?" Chad asked in exasperation.

Sighing, Ethan said, "Fine. I'll look."

He turned reluctantly, and words immediately escaped from his mouth. "I don't believe it!"

Ethan looked back at his friend, anger burning in his eyes.

"I told you she was here," Chad replied, a feeling of smugness creeping in. As much as he cared about his friend, Chad had to admit that Ethan could be dense at times, particularly when it came to Theresa. Maybe seeing her with another man would be just the push he would need to finally act on his feelings for her.

Ethan crossed his arms and shook his head. "I don't believe I fell for this, Chad! I should know better by now. Theresa isn't here."

Chad looked at Ethan in confusion, his feeling of smugness waning. "What are you talkin' about? Theresa and her date are right there, walkin' behind those columns. Look again."

"Monkeys always look."

"Huh?" Chad asked, though his gaze was averted as he watched Theresa and her date sit down.

"It just reminded me of a game my brother Andrew and I would play when we were children. He'd tell me to turn around and look at something extraordinary. I would, and there would be nothing there. Then he'd say, 'Monkeys always look.' I fell for it every time. I'm not falling for it anymore."

"Ethan, man, I wouldn't lie to you," Chad said earnestly.

"Look, Chad, whether Theresa is or isn't here, it doesn't matter. What happened between us, what went wrong, can't be fixed. It just is."

"You know, I so don't get you. It's been five years, Ethan. Five years. Five years since whatever it was that turned you against her happened. But you still think about her. You still dream about her. And what do you do about it? Nothin'. No, you sit and mope 'bout how Gwen doesn't trust you or how unhappy you are. If you don't like the way things are, do somethin' about it!"

"Chad, you have no idea what it is like to be in my situation! Until you've walked in my shoes, you don't any grounds for telling me what I should do or how I should feel!"

"Nah, man. Maybe not, but I've been to hell and back! When Whitney and I thought that her moms was my...," his voice trailed off. "Let's just say that I know what it's like to be torn into a million pieces, and I know what it's like to try to put those pieces back together. And you know, like I said, I've been to hell and back. The diff'rence between you and me is that I made it back. You... you're still livin' in that hell."

With that, Chad stood and left to go to the back of the store.

Ethan watched his friend go and silently cursed. "You're batting zero, Crane."

Absently running his fingers through his hair, he knew what he had to do. It was time to let go once and for all. Gwen was his future, not Theresa. And she deserved better than him. Briskly, he walked to the door, determined to make his marriage to Gwen work.

* * *

Theresa wasn't sure why she looked at the door, but she did. She'd had the strangest feeling ever since she and Drew arrived at Brazen. It was almost as if something were on the verge of happening, but not, at the same time. Sitting in the rounded corner booth, her vision was blocked somewhat, but she felt the impulse to look nonetheless. As she did so, a familiar figure caught her eye.

"Ethan?" she said it softly, but she was barely aware that she said it at all. Immediately, she became angry with herself. She knew she shouldn't even be thinking about him. No. Not tonight, she promised herself.

Drew, who was taking a drink of iced tea, looked closely at his companion. "What did you say?"

Theresa looked back at the man sitting next to her, trying to fight the heat she could feel rising in her cheeks. She could still vaguely feel the sensations his kiss had evoked as she looked at him. "Um, nothing," she replied quickly.

He leaned back in the booth, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Why are you so flustered?"

Theresa stared back at him, her eyes growing large. If any other man had asked her that, it might have seemed accusatory. But the way Drew asked it so nonchalantly made her blush deepen.

"I'm not flustered. I'm just..."

He placed his index finger across her lips, cutting off her words. "You're just sexy."

He touched her face, and Theresa felt her breath catch within her. The whole world seemed to be spinning around her, and all she could see was Drew Winthrop. He was her anchor.

Drew leaned forward, his lips dangerously close to hers. But just as suddenly as he did, he had an impish grin on his face and kissed her forehead instead before leaning back again.

Theresa smiled at him. "Just when I think I'm starting to figure you out, you do something that surprises me."

"I'm anything but predictable. Makes life more interesting, don't you think?"

"Perhaps. Though sometimes it's nice to know what you're getting. Raisin cookies look like chocolate chip cookies, but they certainly taste different. And when you bite into a cookie expecting it to be chocolate chip, and it turns out to be raisin instead, that can be disappointing."

She looked back at him, seeing the amused expression on his face. Rolling her eyes, she grimaced, "I'm rambling. That sounded so stupid, didn't it?"

"Why do I get the feeling you aren't talking about cookies, Beauty? Someone disappointed you."

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. It was a long time ago, and I'll never know what changed to make it happen, so I just need to leave it in the past."

"Ethan Crane. The Golden Boy."

Theresa was startled to see Drew's playful expression crumble as he said Ethan's name. His voice was tinged with something Theresa couldn't quite define. Was it jealousy? Surely not. She and Ethan were over a long time ago. Besides, Drew didn't even know Ethan. Why would he be jealous?

_Why do all roads lead back to Ethan?_ Drew wondered.

Drew had heard praises of his perfect brother all his life. Their mother, especially, proclaimed Golden Boy's virtues at every opportunity. Even their father seemed to prefer Ethan, a particularly difficult pill to swallow considering that Ethan was nothing like Julian Crane.

And now Theresa.

Drew knew it was one thing for Ethan to think about Theresa. He counted on that. He intended to use that fact. But it was an entirely different matter altogether for Theresa to be thinking about Ethan. If the two of them were to ever figure out just what Gwen and her mother had done, it would only be a matter of time before they found their way back to one another.

Drew wasn't willing to let that happen.

It used to be merely because he despised his brother, the Golden Boy. It made him sick to constantly hear about how noble and good Ethan was. Of course he was. He could afford to be because no one ever told him no.

But Drew was about to tell him no.

Matters had become more complicated where Theresa was concerned, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He desired her more than he had ever desired any other woman. And he intended to make Theresa his and only his. It went beyond her physical attributes. He wanted her.

But what would she do once she realized that he's only been using her? That would certainly be an inconvenience.

No. Better to stick to business, regardless of what he wanted. It would be worth it to see Ethan finally lose.

Almost as soon as the playful expression faltered, it was back in full force. Drew could curse himself for allowing his resentment toward Ethan come out. It certainly would not do to have Theresa pick up on it. But it was so hard to put on a happy face again.

The first few bars of a new song began to play, and Theresa began laughing. "I don't believe it. I think I must have gone around singing this song for an entire summer!"

"Heather Nova," Drew said as he listened.

"You know her music?" Theresa asked surprised.

"Let's just say that I'm familiar with her work," Drew replied. Wouldn't Gwen and Theresa be surprised to know that had that in common...among other things.

"I don't know if you're like this, but sometimes I will latch onto a song and listen to it over and over again. I always liked this song. It made me feel sassy."

Drew chuckled. "Sassy?"

"It's silly. I know. But to a thirteen year old girl, it was the right song at the right time. That was the summer I was convinced I was in love with Noah Bennett."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. He was one of mine and Whitney's best friends. We used to spend countless hours at Noah's house, and Mrs. Bennett would make the most amazing apple pie and homemade ice cream. Let me tell you, it was right up there with her tomato soup cake."

Drew wrinkled his nose at the sound of tomato soup cake. It didn't sound very appealing.

"So what happened with Noah?"

Theresa waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, it was just a summer fling. We'd been friends practically since we learned to walk. Growing up, we were more like brother and sister. It was just that summer that we saw each other in a new light. Realistically speaking, we were way too young to be serious about each other. But if anyone had tried to tell me back in, I wouldn't have listened. He was so handsome. Still is, but I haven't seen him in quite some time."

"Where is he now?" Drew asked.

"Medical school. Stanford."

"His parents must be quite proud."

"They are. We all are. I always knew Noah had it in him."

"But you haven't seen him in a long time?"

"Only once in the last five years. Shortly after Kay, his sister, passed away, he came to New York for a visit. It was all so...," her voice trailed off remembering how the circumstances surrounding Kay Bennett's death shook Noah's family to the core. And Miguel-he'd been despondent. She shook her head. "You know what? I shouldn't even be talking about that. What about you? Any teenage crushes?"

He stretched lazily. "A few," he replied, his words noncommittal. "I spent most of the year at boarding school, but summers were spent travelling around the world, just seeing what I could see. When I was small, Mother used to travel with us."

"Us?"

"My brother and I."

"Oh. But she stopped?"

"Of course. Once my brother graduated from high school and started college, she had more important things to do."

Theresa was about to ask more, but the waiter came to take their orders. Theresa ordered a house salad. Smiling, she turned to Drew, "No garlic bread tonight," she promised.

"Careful, or you might encourage me," Drew warned her.

"There could be worse things," she replied with a wink. "Well, you know that I liked this song when I was younger. What about you? What kind of music did you listen to when you were in school?"

"Alternative. The Seattle sound when it first became widespread was so different than anything we'd heard before. Too bad alternative faded into the mainstream." Drew smiled at the memory. "I will never forget how alternative music took the boarding school by storm. I'm sure the headmasters are still scratching their heads over that one. If you can imagine this, we were a bunch of preppy, rich, wannabe rebels listening to Nirvana and Stone Temple Pilots. Some of the guys would wear wool socks and Birkenstock sandals with the school uniforms. And some of the guys grew their hair out long and tried to form dread locks. It was the most they could do because we weren't allowed to wear flannel shirts and blue jeans."

"But not you?"

"I'm too vain and care far too much about my appearance to purposely try to be sloppy."

Theresa laughed. "No, I don't suppose I could imagine you going for the grunge look. How about your brother?"

Drew shook his head. "No, he's too dutiful to go against the family's wishes. He always does what is expected of him, sometimes to his own detriment."

"Tell me more about your family, Drew."

"We aren't like other families. I think I'll just leave it at that."

"Why do you hide from them?"

"Who says I hide?" he asked.

"It's just a hunch."

"Really."

"Yes, really. It's just that you capable of so much, but you sit on the sidelines watching your brother and everyone else. It's obvious to me that you don't like your brother very much, but rather than dealing with it, you let your anger and resentment fester."

He took her hand and kissed it. "Don't worry, Beauty. I'm dealing with it. In fact, I'm working on something as we speak."

* * *

After dinner, Drew took Theresa back to her house, and the two of them watched a movie. Drew was a perfect gentleman, which in some ways surprised Theresa. In fact, by the time he was getting ready to leave, Theresa didn't want him to be so gentlemanly.

They walked out onto the beach, holding hands. Theresa, with her shoes off, could feel the sand between her toes. The breeze coming off the ocean, combined with the sound of the waves made her feel freer than she'd felt in a long time.

She looked at him, the moonlight hitting his features. Without a doubt, he was one of the most handsome, most appealing men that she'd ever known.

Impulsively, Theresa stopped and pulled Drew to her. Without saying a word, she stood of her toes and lightly touched his lips with her own.

She was playing with him, and he knew it.

Spanning her small waist with his hands, Drew pulled Theresa into a deeper kiss. Gently, he teased her lips apart, wanting to taste her inner sweetness. Their tongues sparred, and Theresa felt as though the whole world were spinning.

His hands moved up, resting under the swell of her breasts. His kisses traced her jaw line and her neck. She buried her fingers in his hair. Being with him felt so good, and she wanted more.

Reality came crashing around her. She barely knew this man, but she was finding herself on the verge of doing things she hadn't done before.

Between kisses, she said, "This...has...to...stop."

She forced herself to pull away from him.

Her breathing was still quickened. "You'll never make it home if we don't stop now."

"I can think of worse things," he replied huskily.

Theresa closed her eyes for a moment before reopening them. "Me, too. But this is how it has to be."

He took her hand in his and kissed it. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"I'm counting on it."

Biting her bottom lip, Theresa watched as Drew walked to his car and got in. She sighed. There was something about him, something that she couldn't put her finger on, that attracted her.

Looking up at the stars, she smiled. They twinkled, as though smiling back down on her. "So many possibilities," she murmured.

* * *

Drew started his car and watched as Theresa walked back inside her house. He never imagined that she would be so responsive. A few more dates should do it...

* * *

"Ethan, darling, you look like a wreck!" Ivy Crane exclaimed when she saw her firstborn walk into the living room. She moved quickly off the sofa, where she was enjoying a brandy before retiring for the night, and walked to her son's side. "Has something happened?"

Julian groaned as he watched his wife fussing over their son. "Good God, Ivy! Your hovering certainly isn't going to make him feel any better." Rolling his eyes, he muttered, "I know that when I see you coming, I want to run the other way."

Ivy shot her husband an evil look before returning her attention to her son who still had not said a word since returning home. Touching her son's face softly, she asked, "Ethan, what is it?"

"Gwen and I had a disagreement earlier this evening."

Julian smirked. "She was none too pleased. I can assure you of that."

Ethan walked toward Julian. "Is she all right? Did she say anything?"

Julian scratched his chin. "Well, now. Let's see..ah, yes. She did say a few things. And Theresa's name came up."

Ivy crossed her arms. "Theresa? Why?"

Ethan sighed. "Gwen thinks I'm having an affair with her."

"You aren't, are you?" Ivy asked.

"Of course not!" Ethan exclaimed, surprised his mother would even ask.

Ivy sighed in relief. "Thank heavens! Well, then, if you aren't having an affair with Theresa, what's the problem?"

"I know what the problem is, Ivy. Ethan might not be sleeping Theresa, but he wants her." Julian rested his hand on Ethan's shoulder and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "This problem isn't anything that can't be solved by a roll in the hay with the lovely Theresa. That should take away all the mystery. Once you know what it's like to be inside her, you won't think about her anymore. Just take her, Ethan. Take her. Women like her are here for our pleasure and gratification."

Ethan grabbed the front of Julian's robe, taking the older man by surprise. "Don't you ever talk about Resa like that again! Actually, don't you even mention her name. When you say her name, you soil it."

Ivy's eyes widened when she saw her son's reaction to Julian. She'd never seen this side of Ethan before, but it made her think of Sam and how he would react under similar circumstances. Yes. Whether Ethan wanted to admit it or not, he was his father's son, Ivy thought.

Touching Ethan's arm, she said evenly, "Ethan, he's not worth it."

Ethan released his grip on the man he called Father. Julian smoothed the fabric and smiled nervously. "Yes, he's a Crane through and through," he said to his wife.

Ivy merely rolled her eyes. "Something to be so proud of," she replied sarcastically.

"Well, well, well. Looks like I'm just in time for some Crane family fun," Drew said caustically as he walked into the living room.

Ivy forced a smile. "Andrew, I wasn't expecting to see you tonight," she said walking to the new arrival and kissing him on each cheek.

"You know me, Mother. I've never been one to do what's expected of me."

Ivy raised an eyebrow. "I've noticed."

"Ethan, if I might interrupt your attempted patricide for a moment, I'd like to have a word with you."

Ethan glared at Julian before turning his attention to his brother. "Let's take a walk."

The brothers walked out the patio doors and into the garden, illuminated with ornamental lanterns.

"You know, I used to follow you and Sheridan out here when we were children," Drew began. "It seems strange to be out here with you now."

"Not so strange," Ethan replied. "We're brothers, after all."

"Hhmmmm. So we are."

"What is all of this about?"

"I'm looking for some sage advice from my big brother."

"I hardly think I'm one to be giving advice," Ethan hedged.

Drew's calculated smile shined on his face. "Oh, but you're the only one who can help me with this. I think I'm in love."

Ethan's jaw dropped. Andrew certainly was full of surprises. "Really?"

"Don't sound so shocked."

"It's just that you have always been more interested in the chase than in the actual catching."

"Let's just say all that has changed. This girl is very special."

"Well, what's she like?"

"Well, she doesn't come from money, but she's made a name for herself in the business world. She's breathtakingly beautiful with a wide-eyed innocence that belies something else. Let's just say that for such a little thing, she's an absolute tigress..."

Ethan held his hand up. "I think I get the picture."

"When you meet her, I'm sure you'll agree with me that she is an exceptional woman."

"I'm happy for you. So what kind of help do you need, Andrew?"

"I want her to know that what we have between us is about more than just sex. I'd like to introduce her to the family. You know, make her feel welcome."

"I could arrange for a family dinner. You could bring her and let us get to know her better."

Drew had to fight the urge to laugh. This was just too easy...

"What a great idea!" Drew said. "I think that you'll soon feel as though you've known her for years."

Drew walked past Ethan feeling quite pleased with himself. Mission accomplished.

Yet as he did, Ethan noticed something. An aroma so faint, so sweet, and so familiar.

_How do I know that scent?_

And then he remembered. Holding her, dancing with her on the terrace in Bermuda. It had intoxicated him then.

"Theresa," he whispered.

Drew stopped and turned back to look at Ethan. "How did you know?"


	34. Chapter 34

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I truly appreciate them. :)

Disclaimer: You guys know I don't own _Passions_. If I did, well, it would've turned out quite differently.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Four: "Stars"**

"How did I know what?" Ethan asked looking at his brother in confusion.

Drew smiled, relief flowing through him that Ethan hadn't figured out his plan, but also annoyance at his own near costly mistake. "Nothing. I was just thinking aloud."

There would be plenty of time for revelations—later. For now, it would be his secret until he could work things out. Still, Drew could not help but be curious as to why Ethan said Theresa's name.

"Ethan, did you just mention Theresa?" Drew asked, probing for information.

"Forget I said anything," Ethan said turning to leave.

"No, wait. I think you need to talk about this," Drew said.

Ethan shook his head. "I just feel so ridiculous. I keep telling myself that I'm going to try my best to put Theresa out of my mind and make my marriage to Gwen work. But it just seems as though every little thing reminds me of Resa. I mean, just now, I imagined that I could smell her perfume. But, of course, that's impossible."

Drew raised an eyebrow. _Not so impossible, Brother. Her perfume is probably on my clothes. Though you certainly do have a good nose, _he thought.

"Yes, impossible. After all, if she'd been here tonight, you would have known it. Father would surely have mentioned it, and Gwen…..well, Gwenie probably would have left a trail of destruction in her path." Drew chuckled as he thought of Ethan's wife. She could be so militant.

"That's an understatement. Gwen will never forgive Theresa for what happened. That's part of why she's so suspicious now."

"From what I hear, Theresa is well-deserving of suspicion."

Ethan sat down on a rock. "I guess so, but I still have regrets. The way I treated her after I found out…..it was as though I fed her to the wolves. And all she could tell me was that she still believed in me. What I don't understand is how she could believe in me when I couldn't even believe in myself."

"You're in love with her."

"No. No, I'm not in love with her," Ethan protested. "I love Gwen."

"Well, you certainly do expend a great deal of time and energy where Theresa is concerned. Especially for someone you don't love."

"It's not love. I just feel responsible for her."

Drew smirked. "Ah yes. Responsibility has always been your middle name."

"And just what do you mean by that?" Ethan demanded.

"You like to feel needed. And now we come to the heart of the matter. Theresa needs you and Gwen doesn't need you enough."

"It isn't about neediness where Theresa is concerned. I love…."

"You were saying?" Drew asked with a grin. _God, it was so easy to bait Ethan!_

"Dammit, Andrew! What do you want from me?"

Drew yawned. "I already have what I want. You, on the other hand, need to figure out what _you_ want." With that, he walked back in the house.

Ethan looked up at the sky, fighting the urge to wish on a star_. As if that will help anything._ There was a time Theresa would've insisted to him that wishing on stars made all the difference in the world. She was so idealistic, but he had caused her to lose that idealism.

_"I still can't believe I let you drag me out here. It's practically the middle of the night."_

_She smiled at him, the light in her eyes twinkling as did the stars above. "It's not _that _late. Honestly, Ethan Crane, where is your sense of adventure?" Her tone was a teasing one, and she laughed as she almost seemed to float down the beach._

_Ethan looked around him. It was a beautiful night, and he was in good company. The moon reflected off the water, and the night wind filled the air. He hadn't been out just for the sake of being out since….well, he couldn't remember the last time. _

_Being with her, he felt an energy that he only knew when in her presence. She brought out this side of him; the side that would have a snowball fight, the side that would sing a duet and bake cookies, the side that would pretend to be Elvis, the side that would cause him to let his guard down. _

_Looking over at his companion, he was greeted with the image of her head tilted toward the heavens, eyes closed, and mouth moving softly. Her lips had the slightest hint of a smile at their corners. _

_"Theresa, what are you doing?"_

_She pointed up at the sky. "Do you see it, Ethan?"_

_He looked to where she pointed. "Sure. It's a star."_

_"Oh, but it's not just any star. It's the first star of the night. When I was a little girl, and when I thought no one was looking, I would sneak outside at night and just gaze at the sky. I can't explain it, but I felt such a connection to these little glimpses of light. I can't even count how many times I've wished on stars."_

_Ethan smiled. It never ceased to amaze him how she could exhibit so much fire and passion in just a simple memory. "What did you wish for tonight?"_

_She laughed lightly and slapped his arm playfully. "Silly! I can't tell you that. Otherwise, it won't come true!"_

_"Do wishes really come true?"_

_She looked at him, the playfulness gone from her tone. "Absolutely."_

He swallowed hard. "God help me, but I do love her. I love Resa. And I have no right to feel this way."

* * *

Gwen stared at the new package of birth control pills. She had just been on her week off, and it was time to start the new cycle. But her mother's words kept coming back to her. What if she did get pregnant? Having Ethan's baby was something she'd always wanted. Though at the rate she was going, it didn't look very likely to happen.

"Unless I help _fate_ along a bit," she said aloud smiling as she thought of the word Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald used to throw around as a justification for her manipulations. _Wouldn't Theresa be surprised now_?

Quickly, she punched the small pill out of the package and carried it into the bathroom. Dropping it into the sink, she turned on the water and watched it get carried down the drain.

She immediately felt better.

There would be no going back. Besides, everyone knew that the Pill was not 100% effective. She would just have a "surprise" pregnancy.

Soon, one problem would be taken care of, but that didn't account for the other problems she was facing.

Regardless of what her mother said, Gwen still worried about Hope Lopez-Fitzgerald and the little brat's words. She felt a chill run down her spine when she thought of how the child looked at her. It simply wasn't natural.

_And Andrew_. Gwen had lived long enough to have more than a few regrets in her life, but her fling with Andrew Crane certainly was one of the most foolish things she'd ever done. Of course, it tied with having trusted Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald, but both were grave mistakes nonetheless.

Andrew was a loose cannon, and he resented her husband, his brother. It was one thing to sleep with a man, but another thing entirely to learn that it was merely a means to an end on his part. Gwen still couldn't believe that it had been intended to hurt Ethan.

Oh, Gwen was grateful that Andrew hadn't told Ethan, but it stung her pride to know that Andrew felt he was allowing Ethan to be punished by staying in a relationship with her.

To top it all off, Andrew knew what she and her mother had done to keep Ethan and Theresa apart. Yes, he was a problem. But what could she do about it? Murder him? Hardly. Besides, if she was going to put herself at risk for exposure by murdering anyone, her victim would invariably be Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald.

Gwen closed her eyes and could imagine watching Theresa in satisfaction as she took her last breath knowing that she would never survive to destroy anyone else's life. "And she would never have Ethan."

Gwen walked back into the bedroom, opened the top drawer of her nightstand, and placed the container of pills in it.

What a rotten night it had been. Yet as always, her mother had given her sound advice. And Gwen was determined that the night improve, and it would, just as soon as Ethan came back.

* * *

_Theresa wasn't sure why she looked at the door, but she did. She'd had the strangest feeling ever since she and Drew arrived at Brazen. It was almost as if something were on the verge of happening, but not, at the same time. Sitting in the rounded corner booth, her vision was blocked somewhat, but she felt the impulse to look nonetheless. As she did so, a familiar figure caught her eye. _

_"Ethan?" her voice was so soft, she could barely even hear herself._

_But _he_ heard._

_Ethan Crane turned around, his blue eyes meeting her brown ones. The world around them seemed to melt. It was just the two of them, the way it was always meant to be. _

_"Resa."_

_Her heart caught in her throat as she slid out of the booth and walked to him._

_"Ethan, please don't go. Let's just enjoy the night together."_

_He took her hand in his and smiled. "Why, Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald, I wouldn't _dream_ of it."_

_They walked out of the club and soon found themselves at the beach. A million stars were out that night, and Theresa knew they shone only for Ethan and her._

_Fingers intertwined, Theresa stayed in step with Ethan. "I've missed you. A lot."_

_"What do you miss most?" he asked. _

_"Moments like these. Just being together. No one has ever made me feel the way you do." _

_And it was true. Why couldn't their lives be simple again? _

_"It's hard to let go, isn't it?"_

_She nodded. "Much harder than I thought it would be."_

_"But I've always known you were a survivor." His voice was soft but held steeliness in it at the same time. _

_"Maybe. But Ethan, there's something I don't understand."_

_"What's that?" he asked. _

_She swallowed hard. Should she ask? Should she risk ruining their perfect moment together? She had come this far, and she knew there was no turning back._

_"I would've given anything to take away your disappointment, to take away your hurt. I felt as though I knew you better than anyone, and I thought you knew me, too. But why couldn't you believe in me?" _

_He looked at her, disappointment marring his features. "You know why."_

_"No, I don't! You keep saying I should know why, but I-I don't."_

_"How can you not?" He broke free from her hand, severing the connection between them. "I suppose now you're going to stand there and tell me you aren't guilty of what you did. That you didn't lie and manipulate the situation. That you didn't…"_

_He was speaking, but Theresa could not hear his words._

_Desperately clutching his arm, she pleaded, "Ethan, what did I do? I couldn't hear you."_

_"You know full well what you did."_

_Would it always come back to this? _

_"I—I should've known better than to build my life around any one person, and I do know better now, but Ethan, you were my life. I would never purposely do anything to hurt you." _

_Ethan stopped and looked her squarely in the eyes. "Then why does it still hurt so much?"_

_Theresa's lip quivered. "Because what we have is real, Ethan. It's _always_ been real. But I need to find some way to move on, and you do, too. If we can't be together, then let's at least find some way to heal."_

Theresa awoke with a start, her blankets strewn aside and the sheets tangled at her feet. She rubbed her sleepy eyes and was startled to realize that she had been crying.

"It was only a dream," she whispered.

But it had seemed so real. The pain…..it was so real.

It was time; time to put the past behind her once and for all. But to do that, she would need Ethan's help. She had to know what changed.

She'd always assumed that he learned of her lies, that he thought she had been manipulating him, setting him up. But was it possible that there was more to it than that? They'd never spoken of what happened. When Ethan shut himself off from her, Theresa knew him well enough to know that he would not listen to her then. But what about now? Would he talk to her about it now?

Mindlessly, she crawled out of bed and pulled on her robe. Walking down the stairs, she heard Serendipity prowling about the house, as cats often do at night. He came to her and rubbed against her legs, seeming to sense that something was amiss.

Theresa reached down and scooped up the feline, cradling him to her neck. His soft purring soothed her nerves. "You're such a sweet kitty," Theresa whispered.

Setting the cat back down, Theresa felt herself drawn outside. The sound of the waves beckoned her.

Opening the door, she walked outside onto her deck, slowly making her way down onto the beach. Cool sand greeted her bare feet, and Theresa took in everything around her. The beach was dark, illuminated only by the full moon which shone above. Looking down the beach, she noticed the other houses were darkened, people more than likely enjoying more pleasant dreams than she had.

Casting her eyes on the stars, she felt overwhelmed by what was before her. These were the same stars she had once wished upon, the same stars that countless people had wished upon. Had she really been foolish enough to believe that they shone only for her and Ethan?

_Ethan. _She closed her eyes and she could almost see him.

She had to know. She needed that closure.

And he could give it to her if only he would.

Opening her eyes again, she looked back at the stars, remembering the girl she had once been. Oh, how many wishes she had whispered to the stars!

And then the impulse came again. She couldn't resist it. After everything that happened, after all the pain, she still couldn't resist.

"Starlight, starbright  
First star I see tonight  
I wish I may, I wish I might  
Have this wish  
I wish tonight."

And for the first time in five years, Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald wished upon a star.


	35. Chapter 35

A/N: Thank you as always for reading and for the reviews. It really does mean so much to me. :)

Disclaimer: _Passions_ isn't mine, etc. etc. Really? Would I want to claim some of the drivel that came across our screens?

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Five: "House of Cards"**

"I'm sorry. What did you say?" Theresa asked as she looked across the kitchen table at Whitney.

"Oh, nothing much. Just the usual. I had three extra-terrestrials over for dinner last night. Friends of Chad's, visiting from LA."

"That's nice," Theresa replied, still distracted. "Chad knows some interesting people."

"Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald, you haven't been listening to a word I've said!"

Theresa sighed, "I'm sorry, Whit. I'm not very good company this morning."

"Well, it isn't everyday that your best friend delivers news about aliens."

Theresa mustered a small smile. "Well, let's see. This _is_ Harmony and strange things _do _happen here.

Whitney laughed at the thought. "Do you remember that time a few years ago when someone arranged those couches in the shape of Stonehenge in Baxter Field?"

"Do I ever!" Theresa exclaimed, her mood lifting. "Did they ever find out who did that?"

"Not as far as I know. It's one of life's great mysteries." Whitney examined her friend. "You look like you're feeling a little better."

Theresa nodded. "You're right, Whit. I do feel better. You were just what I needed."

"Hon, what's going on with you? When you called me last night after Drew left, you seemed so happy."

Theresa picked up her cup of flavored coffee and swished the liquid around in the container. "I-I don't know what's wrong with me. I did have a wonderful time last night with him. He's such an enigma, almost as though he's two different people."

"Uh-oh. Now why don't I like the sound of that?"

"Whit, it's not as though he has a split personality," Theresa said rolling her eyes. "I just meant that he's complex. That's all."

"So if you had a good time, what happened?" Whitney asked leaning forward.

"When we were at Brazen last night, I thought I caught a glimpse of Ethan. I didn't really think about it very much at the time, but last night, I dreamed about him."

Whitney grimaced. She had been afraid that Ethan was about to enter the equation, and her fears were confirmed. "What happened in your dream?"

Theresa sighed. "It was so vivid. I was back at the club, as though replaying that short moment in my mind. But everything changed! He saw me, and we left to talk. But Whit, at first, it was the way it used to be. There was no one else in the world but Ethan and me. No one. He held my hand and we talked. I wasn't sure where he ended and I began. We were _that _connected. Our guards were down, but then….then this wall came between us again. He was accusing me of something, but I couldn't hear him. And I knew it was important! I _knew_ that it was what had turned him against me those years!"

"What did you do?" Whitney asked reaching for her friend's hand.

"Nothing really. I woke up before we resolved anything, but it did make me realize something. We need to settle these issues between us. Well, _I _need to resolve these issues between us. Ethan is probably so far over me, but as much as I hate to admit it, I have these lingering feelings….feelings that just won't go away. But I need to find some way to make them go away."

Whitney swallowed hard. Couldn't Theresa see that Ethan was still feeling it, too?

_Well_, she started to reason, _perhaps it's best that Theresa doesn't realize it. It will only lead to more heartache for her in the long run. She and Ethan are _not_ going to be together. _

She knew that Chad disagreed with her, but Whitney knew from watching the demise of her parents' marriage that sometimes love was not enough. Especially when disappointment and disillusionment were involved. Her father had held her mother on such a high pedestal, and when Eve Russell fell, she fell hard.

It was the same with Ethan and Theresa. Whitney knew it was one thing for Ethan to find out things about Theresa he would rather not found out, but because he'd thought she was the epitome of innocence, the realization was all the more devastating to him.

"Theresa, Ethan is married to Gwen. That isn't going to change. He is a Crane, and Crane men might have their flings on the side, but they don't leave their wives for their mistresses."

Theresa's jaw dropped. "Whitney!" she exclaimed. "I thought you knew me better than that! I would _not _be any man's mistress, even Ethan's. Besides, he's not like that. He would never cheat on Gwen. Trust is too important to him, and he would never betray her trust like that."

_But hasn't Ethan already betrayed Gwen's trust by not letting go of his feelings for you_? Whitney thought. But she said, "Ethan is a good man. He tries to do the right thing."

"Yes, he does," Theresa said quietly.

"So what are you going to do about it?" Whitney asked, almost afraid to hear her friend's answer.

"I'm going to settle this once and for all. I didn't press the issue five years ago, but that was a mistake. I need to know, and today I'm going to see Ethan."

Whit sighed. Even though her friend was older and wiser than the naïve girl who left Harmony, those qualities that made Theresa simultaneously endearing and frustrating still existed.

"Is that really such a good idea?"

"Probably not," Theresa admitted. "If Gwen finds out, she will be furious. But Whit, I'm tired of feeling as though I'm being torn into a million pieces. I want to move forward."

"With Drew?" Whitney asked.

A small smile crept onto Theresa's features. "Perhaps. I like him. I really do."

"But you're not in love with him?"

Theresa laughed lightly. "Of course not! It's too soon for that." She sighed thinking of how she felt whenever she was around him. To think they'd had such a rocky start! "But maybe sometime in the future there could be something lasting between us. It's—uncomplicated—with us. We don't have this hurtful past between us. Drew spends time with me because he likes me. Just me. There are no secrets, no lies."

"Honesty has become very important to you, hasn't it?"

"I think I've learned the hard way that a relationship cannot be built on lies. It's just like a house of cards. It all comes tumbling down, unable to offer the slightest resistance."

* * *

"People are so gullible. They'll believe anything," Drew Crane mumbled before taking a drink of orange juice. He found himself back at the Crane Mansion, at what he considered an un-Godly hour, going through his old CDs, forgotten long ago, but newly remembered.

Yawning, Drew thought of the old Jonathan Edwards sermon, 'Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God.' Though he detested many of the ideas the Puritans took to heart, he had to appreciate the imagery in Edwards's sermon. The thought of man as merely being an insignificant insect held over the flame by an all-powerful being was quite provocative to him. And the more he considered it, the more he could see similarities in his own situation. He was in control, and the other players didn't even know they were being played. And he was, indeed, holding them over the flame, though they had yet to discover that fact.

The truth would come out soon, and Drew looked forward to seeing the look on his brother's face. It was delicious irony that Ethan himself was organizing the means for his own downfall.

_Perhaps downfall is too strong a word_, thought Drew. _Devastation, perhaps._

Everything had worked out perfectly thus far. Still, the sooner the charade ended, the better chance it would stand for success.

Drew felt that he had played the situation perfectly. Ethan knew that he was seeing someone "special." He'd already planted the idea in Ethan's mind that he and his new _amor_ were on intimate terms. Even when Ethan and Theresa found out that they had been played for fools, Drew knew that his brother would harbor a shadow of doubt about Theresa and her involvement with him.

Still, it was not enough for Ethan to think that he'd been with Theresa. No, Drew wanted her. Really wanted her.

Surprisingly, he realized it more than just wanting what his brother had. That was his motivation where Gwen was concerned—which was a conquest that turned out to be a wasted effort. Sure, she was easy enough to seduce, but what did it gain him? Gwen wasn't what his brother truly wanted. Ethan just didn't have the backbone to do anything about it.

No, it was more with Theresa. He wanted _her_. He liked the way she made him feel, the way she made him laugh. Plus, she was so damn sexy, and she didn't even try.

When he thought of their breathless kisses, he knew he'd never been affected by any woman the way she affected him. He didn't want to give that up. At least, he would have a fond memory to take with him if did not forgive him.

Settling on the sofa of the multimedia room of the Crane Mansion, Drew pointed the universal remote at the stereo. The melancholy guitars of good old-fashioned alternative music began to sound. He hadn't even thought of his old favorites until the night before when he and Theresa reminisced about music from their school days. She could make the most simple things seem like the most extraordinary.

He smiled as he thought of the expressiveness in her luminous brown eyes as they talked the night before. Those eyes held a combination of mischief, excitement, and laughter when they were together.

_How will she see me when all is said and done?_

The question seemed to come from nowhere, and immediately, Drew was taken aback. He knew he couldn't afford to look at the situation from that perspective. Any attack of conscience would only hinder his efforts.

But he hated the thought of seeing disappointment in her eyes.

_Just don't think about it!_ his mind screamed. _You came here to listen to music, not to get sentimental. _

He chose to ignore the small fact that listening to old music was a sentimental gesture in itself.

Closing his eyes, he tried to free his mind from the nagging thoughts that would soon be consuming him if he did not guard against them. _A conscience can be so pesky_, he decided.

"I should've known _you_ were in here. I recognized the grotesque sound of classless music," Gwen said as she walked into the multimedia room. "Just something else you have in common with the hired help, I see."

Lazily, Drew opened his eyes and looked at her. "Wake up on the wrong side of an empty bed, Gwenie?"

Gwen's jaw clenched. "For your information, Andrew Crane, my bed was not…"

Drew waved his hand in dismissal. "Save it. I saw Ethan coming out of one of the guest bedrooms this morning. So if you're here to give a show about how wonderful your marriage is, don't bother. Now, if you don't mind, I'm trying to listen to music."

Gwen's eyes narrowed, and without a word she walked out of the room.

"Peace at last," Drew said, smiling to himself.

A moment later he heard the door open and hurried footsteps cross the hardwood floor. He looked up and saw his sister-in-law, arms crossed with a determined set to her features.

"Couldn't stay away, I see."

"No, Andrew, I think the person who is having a hard time staying away is you. Tell me, why are you here in Harmony?"

"Can't a man return home and be welcomed back into the fold?" he asked with a look of feigned sincerity on his face. "Honestly, Gwenie, where is your sense of familial duty?"

"Don't speak to me of familial duty. I'm more a member of this family than you will ever be. While you've been gallivanting around who knows where, the rest of us have actually been working and fulfilling social obligations. You scoff at the idea of being a member of the Crane family most of the time, only using the name when it benefits you. Everything must suit _your_ purpose. So, what is your purpose in being here now?"

Drew smiled. "You're scared."

"Of you? Don't be absurd."

"Absurd, is it? I don't think so. You know that I can take away this little operation you have going on right now. You're worried that it's the reason I'm here now. You're so transparent."

"And if you want to live to see thirty, you best not mention anything to Ethan about what you know."

"Let's see. Which part am I to continue keeping a secret? The part where you and I slept together or the part where you and your mommy dearest connived to ruin Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald in Ethan's eyes? What delicious choices!"

"Don't even say it out loud. _Please._"

"What's that you said, Gwenie? I couldn't quite hear you."

"Why you unfeeling son of a….."

He cut her off. "Careful what words you choose. You are, after all, speaking of my esteemed brother's mother and your mother-in-law."

"Have I mentioned lately that I hate you?" Gwen asked, feeling a sense of resignation. What could she do about Andrew? He obviously reveled in her discomfort, and she was only fueling the flames, so to speak.

"Well, you know what the anonymous 'they' say," replied Drew casually. "There's a thin line….."

"I assure you _that's _a line that won't be crossed again," Gwen replied.

"Can't say I'm heartbroken. Once was enough for me."

"Just remember this, Andrew. If you so much as look at me funny, I will destroy you." With that, she left once again.

"Well, if it isn't the kitten making threats like a tiger," Drew said shaking his head and smiling.

* * *

Gwen walked into the hallway and leaned against the wall. "I've got to get a hold of myself," she mumbled.

Few people could unnerve her the way her brother-in-law could. Her mother was constantly warning her against betraying her feelings, but Andrew Crane had a way of coaxing the worst out of her.

It made her sick to know that he could cause her to lose so much. It didn't help her pride any, either, that he knew she and Ethan had not shared a bed the night before.

_These arguments have to stop_, Gwen thought. _There are two things I can do. Turn a blind eye to Ethan's feelings for Theresa. Allow him to keep the tramp on the side and pretend nothing is amiss. Or I can combat the Theresa problem head-on. Discrediting her got Ethan's ring on my finger, but it didn't get his mind off of her. Perhaps more drastic measures are called for. _

"Gwen, I'm glad I ran into you."

Gwen turned and saw her husband. Fighting back the urge to demand to know his whereabouts from the night before, she managed a small smile for him. "I'm glad I ran into you, too, Ethan. I hated the way we left things last night." She swallowed hard, determined to do what she had to do to smooth things over. "I'm sorry for how I reacted to the little girl calling you Uncle Ethan. I should've been more understanding of your situation."

Ethan closed the space between them, took Gwen's hand, and the two started to walk down the hall.

"No, Gwen. You had every right to be upset. I should have told you that I ran into Theresa and her nieces at the park. Even though it was completely innocent, by keeping it from you, it made it appear less than innocent. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I understand why you were upset, and I'm sorry for not telling you. You've never been anything but honest with me. You deserve the same courtesy."

Gwen swallowed hard_. If Ethan only knew….._

_No! It was for the right reasons!_ her mind screamed. _I did it for the right reasons._

"Can you forgive me?" Ethan asked stopping and looking into the eyes of his wife.

Smiling shakily, Gwen replied, "There's nothing to forgive Ethan." Inching closer to him, she murmured suggestively, "So what time do you have to be at work? Perhaps we could make up for some lost time."

"Actually, I was about to leave as soon as I speak to Andrew."

Warning bells went off in Gwen's mind. Ethan talk to Andrew? "No. You can't!"

"Why not?" Ethan asked.

"Well, I just saw him, and he wasn't in a very good mood. I'm not sure this is such a great time."

Ethan crossed his arms. "Hopefully, what I have to tell Andrew will lift his mood."

Gwen watched helplessly as Ethan left in search of his brother.

* * *

Approaching the multimedia room, Ethan could hear the sound pouring out into the hallway. Was that Nirvana he was hearing?

Ethan smiled, remembering how much he used to like to listen to Nirvana and some of the other alternative bands. It was one of the few things that he and his brother shared in common. He still remembered going to a Pearl Jam concert with Andrew, much to the dismay of their mother and Gwen.

Gwen had never completely shared his taste in music, instead preferring artists such as Mariah Carey and Whitney Houston. Gwen especially didn't like Chris Isaak, though Ethan was fairly certain that disdain had more to do with Theresa than Chris Isaak's music itself.

Opening the door to the multimedia room, Ethan walked in. He saw Andrew lying on the couch, eyes closed, with a peculiar smile on his face. _He certainly doesn't seem to look to be in a foul mood_, Ethan thought.

"Ethan," Andrew said simply, without opening his eyes.

"How did you know?" Ethan asked feeling disbelief run through him. Sometimes when his brother did that, it reminded him of their grandfather and how he seemed to automatically know things without explanation.

"I just did," Andrew replied noncommittally. He sat up and looked at his brother.

"I spoke to Mother and Father this morning about meeting your friend."

"She's more than my friend, Ethan. She's my lover," Drew said pointedly.

"Yes, well, either way they've agreed to put aside their differences and have a family dinner for your sake. I think they will be on better behavior if we're in public. How does Saturday night at the Seascape sound to you?"

"I'll run it by her just to make sure, but it sounds perfect to me," Drew replied.

"Good," Ethan said starting for the door.

"Oh, and Ethan," Drew said, "I think you're going to be surprised by just how much you'll like her."

* * *

Unzipping the leather case to her old laptop computer, Theresa took a deep breath. It had literally been a couple of years since she last opened the case. She hadn't thought about it or the electronic diary she kept on the computer in a long time. Her entries into the diary had become more infrequent, largely because it was too tempting to want to look at past entries…..and too painful to look at the past entries.

Having Whitney there that morning had been a welcome relief. She knew she could always count on her friend for comfort and support, even when she did not deserve it. Yet having Whitney there did not take away Theresa's need to fully understand what had happened between her and Ethan.

Theresa looked down at her hands and saw part of the layer of dust from the case had rubbed off on them. Walking into the kitchen, she took a damp dishrag and wiped the dust from the cover before washing her hands.

Theresa soon found out that the battery had long since been drained of power. Finding the A/C adapter, she plugged the computer into the wall and sat down with it on her lap.

"Now that I'm to this point, I don't know that it's such a good idea," she whispered to herself.

Serendipity jumped up on the sofa and sat next to her, watching her with intense interest.

"What are you looking at?" Theresa asked crossly.

Serendipity merely yawned.

"Just turn it on, Theresa. Just turn it on."

Flicking the switch on the side of the machine, Theresa watched as the programs began to load. It would only be another minute.

When she saw the diary icon on the desktop, she clicked on it. As it opened, it brought up a list of entries, categorized by date.

Choosing one, she clicked on it and watched as the text loaded.

_May 3, 2000_

_Dear Diary,_

_Being with Ethan at the cabin yesterday was bittersweet. The last time we were there, it was a place filled with happiness and laughter. I'll never forget being snowed in with Ethan, Whitney, and Chad. I saw a side of him those days that few people have seen. I'll never forget his terrible Italian accent or his adorable Elvis impersonation. But perhaps my favorite memory was singing with him. I've never felt anything like it. During those moments, I was so sure he would kiss me._

_I love him so much it scares me, and to know he feels the same way is simply incredible. Indescribable, really. But I always knew this moment would come. Fate brought us together._

_This time around was different. I've never seen such a look of hurt and disappointment in a person's eyes. I only wish I could take away his pain. I can't imagine what it must be like to know… I suppose it's best to not even write it. Not even to you, Diary. But the secret that we share could change everyone's lives forever. It just kills me to see him hurting. _

_Mama is upset with me for not coming home, but I told her that I'm a good girl. Nothing happened between Ethan and me that shouldn't have happened. She worries, though. She says the Cranes will never accept that Ethan wants me in his life. I'll never belong, she keeps telling me. But I have to believe I will. I have to! Ethan and I _will_ be together._

_I told Mama that I was going to tell him the truth about everything. She says it will only cause him to turn on me, but I just can't believe that. Once he knows that I never set out to hurt him, he'll understand. _

"Foolish girl," Theresa muttered before continuing to read.

_Right now I'm more afraid of how Luis and Gwen will react to the news. Luis already hates Ethan, and I just don't understand why. He says that all the Cranes are evil, but they're not. Especially Ethan. He's the most wonderful man I've ever known._

_I'm sure Luis is going to try to send me away. Probably to Tia Maria. As much as I love Tia Maria and Paloma, I don't want to live in Spain. I can't be away from Ethan. Besides, I'm eighteen years old now. Luis can't do that. Can he? _

_But he is going to be furious. Still, I have to believe that true love will win out in the end._

_And Gwen. She's going to be hurt. She might not be my friend, but I still feel badly for her. _

_I know Ethan loves her, but I just don't think he's _in _love with her. In the long run, this is for the best. She'll meet someone who will love her the way she deserves to be loved. _

_Everything is going to work out. I just know it will. _

Theresa blinked her eyes, willing the tears that were forming to go away. Done was done, and there was nothing she could do about it. Mourning the dreams of a foolish girl certainly would not help the matter.

She took a deep breath before returning to the menu and clicking on another entry.

_June 25, 2000_

_I've lost him._

Theresa tried to muddle through the flurry of emotions that accompanied the entry. She still remembered the agony as though it were yesterday. But why did it all happen? What changed? Was it just Ethan finding out the truth about her lies, or was there more to it?

Either way, she had to know.

Grabbing her purse, she headed out the door.

* * *

Ethan glanced at his watch and felt guilty. He probably should have stayed home and smoothed things over with Gwen. It would be another hour before his first meeting of the day, and it was true that he did want to be at the office early to review the case files. But in reality, he could have skipped it. He'd worked so long on it, he knew the details backward and forward.

So why didn't he stay with his wife and spend the morning in bed?

_Stupid question_. He knew the answer to that already. Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. It was wrong of him to sleep with Gwen when he dreamed of being with Theresa. Gwen deserved more consideration than that.

He sighed. _Am I turning into Julian?_ he wondered. _Or perhaps even Andrew? _

It was good to see Andrew thinking about someone other than himself for a change. Ethan had to admit that he was eager to meet this woman that had finally tamed his brother's heart. It seemed a near impossible feat, but somehow, this woman had done it.

_I wonder what she's like_. _Well, whoever she is, she can't be as amazing as….._

Hearing the door open, Ethan looked up. He wasn't expecting anyone for another hour, and usually his personal assistant was very good about announcing guests.

As he looked up, he was greeted by the sight of Theresa. He blinked twice, just to make sure he wasn't imagining her.

"Resa," he whispered.


	36. Chapter 36

A/N: Thank you as always for reading and for the reviews. I began this story back in the summer of 2000, so it is definitely old-school _Passions_ before several twists and turns occurred on the show.

To those of you wondering why Ethan hasn't left Gwen even though he loves Theresa, interestingly his reasons are the same as what we saw on the show, despite the fact that this story and the show developed in very different directions. It goes back to lack of trust and guilt. Ethan's lack of trust in Theresa and his guilt over betraying Gwen led him to basically try to "do the right thing," which in turn ends up causing more grief. Ah, drama.

Disclaimer: _Passions_ isn't mine, etc. etc. This story is purely for entertainment purposes only.

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**Chapter Thirty-Six: "The Way It Used To Be" aka "How Mrs. Hotchkiss Got Her Groove Back"**

"Mmmm. That feels _so_ good, Pietro. Oh, yes. Just a little lower. Yes. Right there. Oh, yes!" Rebecca Hotchkiss cooed.

Pietro rolled his eyes as he massaged Rebecca's back with oil. Tuesday mornings were always quite profitable, but Mrs. Hotchkiss was a bit difficult to endure. She, along with some of the other middle-aged socialites, treated his services as though they were intimate experiences. He always spent a great portion of the time fighting off advances. However, he was becoming quite adept at it.

Rebecca propped up with her elbows on the masseur's table, revealing to Pietro a considerable amount of cleavage. "You are very good with your hands," she said with a wink. "What…_else_…do you massage?"

Now came the moment of turning her down without actually making her feel his rejection. Pietro opened his mouth to speak, when he was saved by the bell….literally.

The phone's ringing caused Rebecca to grimace. "We really must work on our timing," she sighed. "Hand me the phone, won't you?"

Looking down at the oil on his hands, Pietro reached for the phone, but thought better of it. Using a towel, he retrieved the receiver and passed it to Mrs. Hotchkiss.

"Whatever it is, it had better be good," Rebecca answered in a strained tone.

_"Mother, you sound strange. Are you alright?"_ came the voice on the other end.

"Gwen, darling, you know that Tuesday mornings are my sessions with Pietro. Why are you calling me?"

There was a momentary silence on the other end. _"I wanted to give you some news,"_ Gwen finally replied.

"Well, tell me already," Rebecca demanded.

_"I've given a lot of thought to what you said about having a baby with Ethan."_

"And?"

_"I've decided that you're right. I've stopped taking my birth control pills."_

"Oh, Gwen! That's wonderful. See. I told you, 'Mother knows best.' So, can I expect a little Crane arrival anytime soon?"

_"Oh, Mother! I've only just stopped taking them. Besides, Ethan and I haven't made love since I stopped taking them anyway."_

Rebecca pulled the towel around her and sat up. "Gwen, dear, time is money. The Crane money to be more precise. This baby will solidify your position in the Crane family, as well as your piece of the fortune. You do need to get busy making this baby a reality."

_"Mother, you know that I didn't marry Ethan for the Crane fortune! Sure, it helps that we have the same social background, but I married Ethan because I love him."_

"Well, darling, if you love him, why aren't you _making_ love to him?"

Gwen frowned thinking of how she and Ethan had been arguing lately. Sure, they made up, but he had also turned down her advances that very morning. _"It isn't from a lack of trying on my part, believe me."_

"Then try harder! Do something….I don't know….unexpected. Surprise him. Entice him. Make him forget that Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald ever existed."

_"You're right, Mother. And I know just what to do." _

"That's my girl. Keep me informed of your progress. I'll be handling a few things from this end if the situation worsens," Rebecca said.

_"What is that supposed to mean?"_

"Oh, nothing for you to worry about, Dear," Rebecca replied nonchalantly. "Now, I really must go. I want to give my guest my undivided attention."

Giving Pietro the phone to hang up, Rebecca stood, letting her towel drop. "Now where were we?"

* * *

Hearing the door open, Ethan looked up. He wasn't expecting anyone for another hour, and usually his personal assistant was very good about announcing guests.

As he looked up, he was greeted by the sight of Theresa. He blinked twice, just to make sure he wasn't imagining her.

"Resa," he whispered.

"I'm sorry to just barge in here. I know I should have called, but I didn't want to hear you tell me _not_ to come. And then when I got here, I wasn't up to facing your personal assistant, so I let myself in. I hope you aren't angry with me. And yes, I will stop rambling sometime." Theresa stopped and took a breath, finally looking at Ethan directly.

Ethan felt the urge to smile, not so much amused by Theresa's discomfort as he was amused by the way she talked incessantly when she was nervous. He remembered that attribute all too well. "I'm not upset that you're here, though I am very curious. Probably more than I should be."

Still standing by the door, Theresa said, "I know that it's probably not a good idea for me to be here. I know that my presence here has the potential to create problems, and I don't want to cause problems for you and Gwen, but I _had_ to see you."

"I have some time before my meeting. Come sit down with me," Ethan said approaching her. Taking her arm, he led her to the leather sofa situated in a cove.

As soon as Ethan touched her arm, she felt the electricity surge between them. Immediately she began to re-question the intelligence of her actions.

"Could I get you something to drink?" he asked.

"No thank you," she replied, sitting down. She clasped her hands, nervously rubbing her fingers.

Ethan studied her. Her glossy dark hair was pulled away from her face and cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. Her features were still as striking as ever; her cheekbones were perfectly shaped, her full lips looked utterly kissable, and her dark eyes were expressive and luminous. Yet what those eyes expressed….

Ethan swallowed hard. Her eyes seemed to express so much sadness. He felt his heart lurch, willing whatever was hurting her to go away. At the same time, he knew he was going to have to keep a check on his emotions.

_She looks so small sitting on the sofa,_ he thought.

Sitting down next to her, he forced the emotions from his voice before asking, "What can I do for you today?"

Theresa was surprised by the sudden lack of emotions coming from him and immediately wondered if she'd made a grave mistake. Would he turn on her as he had done before? Would he become angry at her presumptuousness?

"I—I don't even know where to start or what I should tell you and what I shouldn't." She sighed. "I don't know how to talk to you anymore."

"I'm still the same man I always was, Resa," he replied, feeling the wall he had tried to erect start to crumble.

She smiled weakly, but the smile did not reach her eyes. "When you call me that, I can almost imagine that it's true." She took a deep breath before continuing. "I don't know any other way to say this, so I'm just going to come out with it. I had a dream last night, Ethan. A dream about you."

Surprise registered on his features. "A dream about me?"

She nodded. "In my dream, Ethan, we were walking on the beach. It was relaxed between us, the way it used to be. We talked about letting go of the past and what it would take to move on. It made me start to reexamine a girl I once knew; the girl I once was. I just don't know how to reconcile that person with who I am now. I feel as though every time I try to take a step forward, something pulls me back." She stood and began to pace. "I looked at my old diary this morning, and I remember how it used to be with us. When we were at the cabin the last time and we finally talked about how we felt…." Her voice trailed off.

"I remember," he replied quietly.

_The meal passed uneventfully as Theresa shared more of Aislinne Fitzgerald's stories with Ethan. He couldn't even fathom having grandparents like Theresa's...the type of grandparents who doted love and attention on their grandchildren. With Alistair Crane, the extent of Ethan's interaction with him had been about Ethan's obligations as the Crane heir. Grandfather Alistair had paid Ethan little attention when he was a child. In fact, it was only as he grew older that Alistair found him the least bit interesting._

_"Theresa, the quesadillas were delicious," Ethan said as he was finishing up. _

_"Mama has taught me everything I know about cooking, from quesadillas to cocoa."_

_"Pilar is a good person, an honest person." The memories of what had transpired that day were creeping back into Ethan's mind. He wanted so desperately to forget._

_As though she were reading his mind, Theresa suggested, "Why don't we start a fire? It is, after all, starting to get chilly outside. Then we could play a game."_

_"A game, huh? Seems as though last time I played a game with you, I had to tell you my most embarrassing moment."_

_"Well, we won't even talk about being embarrassed. I am never going to sing Carpenter's music again. I'm just lucky you didn't make me sing a verse of a Neil Diamond song! Nope. This game is totally different. Whitney's sister, Simone, taught it to me, and it's more of a psychological analysis."_

_Ethan groaned. "I'm not sure I like the sound of that!"_

_"Come on! It will be fun, and it will tell you a lot about yourself. I know when I did it, I learned things about myself."_

_"Oh, I think I've learned enough about myself for one day," he said as he began to build a fire._

_"Just trust me, Ethan." _

_Finally, he agreed. _

_After stoking the fire, Ethan and Theresa sat on the floor, leaning against the sofa, and looking at the flames._

_"Ok, Ethan. I'm going to ask you a few questions, and I want you to tell me first thing that pops into your mind. Imagine that you are about to go into the woods. You need to take an animal with you. What animal would it be and what does it look like?"_

_"Aren't there plenty of animals in the woods already?"_

_"Stop being contrary, and just answer the question!" Theresa insisted._

_"Let's see...an animal. I think I would take a dog; an Australian shepherd, perhaps." Theresa nodded. "Ah...makes sense. The animal you take into the woods represents how you look at yourself. Dogs are renowned for being loyal animals, so I'm not surprised."_

_"You think I'm loyal?" Ethan asked. His mind drifted toward Gwen. He didn't feel like a loyal fiancé when he was around Theresa. She brought out a different side to him, a side that wanted more than the life that was always expected for him._

_"Of course! Now you're in the woods, walking with the dog. Suddenly, you come across a key. What does it look like?"_

_"I'm not quite sure what a key is doing in the woods, but I'll go along. It is a hotel key, one that is swiped like a credit card. Yet on the key is a picture of an old-fashioned key, the type that is commonly known as a skeleton key."_

_Theresa furrowed her brow. _

_"What does it mean?"_

_"The key represents a person's hopes and dreams. It sounds as though you are trying to be progressive and do things your own way; yet tradition is extremely important to you, as well."_

_Ethan shuddered and realized that Theresa had made a correct call. "You can tell all of that just based on what a key looks like?"_

_Theresa didn't respond. She knew she'd struck a nerve, and that part of the reason he felt torn between his own desires and what was expected of him was because of her._

_"As you're walking along on the path, you come upon a bear blocking your path. What do you do?"_

_"Feed it peanut butter," he quipped._

_"What?"_

_"You heard me. I would feed it peanut butter. That way, the peanut butter would stick to the roof of the bear's mouth, making him feel as though he needed something to drink, and he would leave me alone." _

_Theresa laughed. "That has to be the strangest answer I've ever heard!"_

_"Well, what does the bear represent?"_

_"How you deal with problems. It sounds as though you analyze your situations carefully before taking action."_

_Ethan nodded. _

_"Next you come to a body of water. Describe it and how you plan to cross it."_

_"Actually, it's not a body of water anymore. It's a dried up river, and all I have to do is walk across," he said._

_Theresa felt her cheeks grow hot. She desperately wished she hadn't asked him that question. She fell silent._

_"Aren't you going to tell me what the water represents?"_

_"Nope."_

_"Come on, Theresa. Tell me."_

_"It represents your...no, I just can't!" She felt miserably embarrassed. "I shouldn't have even asked that one!"_

_"But you did, so spill it."_

_"It... it represents your...I can't believe I'm saying this...your sex life."_

_"Moving right along," Ethan said laughing._

_"Well, you're the one who insisted! Ok. I just have one more question. I want you to imagine that you come to a wall, and you can't see around it or over it. What is behind that wall?"_

_"More woods."_

_Theresa stood and walked closer to the fire._Could fate be so cruel? _she wondered._

_Ethan was perplexed when he saw her reaction. Something about his answer had bothered her. He, too, stood and approached her. "Theresa, what is it? What does the wall represent?"_

_She looked up at him, brown eyes shimmering with tears. "Your future," she whispered._

_He touched her face. "Theresa, none of us knows what our future will hold. But there is one thing that I do know. I want you to be part of my future."_

_"What did you say, Ethan?"_

_"I don't want to ever be without you. I haven't been completely honest about my feelings, and I think it's time for you to know the entire truth."_

_Theresa felt tears sting her eyes. Was he finally going to admit that he loved her?_

_He smoothed her hair. "I don't even know where to start. I can't tell you what it means to have you here with me, Theresa. I still can't believe you came."_

_Theresa reached out and touched his arm. "How could I not? I told you that night on the prom boat that I loved you…that I _love_ you with all my heart. When I saw how upset you were when you left the mansion, I couldn't just sit by and do nothing."_

_"And now that you know the truth about who my father is? How do you feel about me knowing that I'm not a Crane?"_

_"Oh, Ethan, do you even have to ask?" She placed her cheek against his chest and wrapped her arms around him. Listening to the beating of his heart, she touched his chest and whispered, "Your heart still beats the same. Your goodness and gentleness still shine through. You are Ethan, the man that I love. That will _never_ change. It _could _never change."_

_He sighed. "Resa, I've been fighting this for so long."_

_"I know, Ethan. But it's time to stop fighting."_

_"I can't, Theresa. I can't let it be this way between us. You're probably the best friend I've ever had. You've seen parts of me that no one has ever seen. Not even Gwen. Yet what I feel for you goes beyond friendship. But I have no right to feel that way."_

_He turned from her, hands in his pockets, and stared at the flames in the fireplace_. What kind of man am I?_ he thought to himself_. Engaged to a woman I've loved practically my entire life, but also in love with Theresa?

_Theresa watched helplessly as Ethan began to shut her out. Squaring her shoulders, she held her head up high, willing the tears that were welling in her eyes to go away. It was just like the game predicted. If he imagined more trees behind the wall…more of the same…what made her believe that he would ever go against what was expected of him? What made her believe that he could ever fully love her in return?_

_Voice quivering, she said, "We can't choose who we fall in love with."_

_Ethan turned and looked at her. "My life would be much easier if you had never dropped that bucket of paint on me that day at the carnival."_

_Theresa nodded, and a stray tear slid down her cheek. "I'm sure it would be."_

_He walked to her and wiped the tear away. Softly, he added, "Easier, Resa. But not better." He leaned down, his forehead touching hers. "You've been like a force of nature that's ripped through my life. I never knew I was missing anything until I met you. I meant it when I said that I couldn't imagine a future without you. God help me, but I love you, Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald." He kissed her gently. "I love you. I love you. I love you."_

_Theresa learned at that moment it was possible to laugh and cry at the same time. Throwing her arms around him, she declared, "I love you, too, Ethan. With everything that I am! I trust you with my heart, and I believe in you. I always will. Always!"_

_His lips found hers, and they were both swimming in a desperate sea of sensation. _

_There never was a more perfect moment. _

_The future was before them, and the possibilities were endless. _

"I know what we had was real, Ethan. I know it was. But then, it was gone. Suddenly, you couldn't stand the sight of me anymore and you shut me out. You wouldn't talk to me, you wouldn't see me, and I let you go. And I was foolish enough to let go without knowing exactly what had happened."

Ethan sighed. "Theresa, relationships can't be built on lies."

Theresa crossed her arms. "Don't you think I, of all people, realize that? I know this doesn't make things right between us, but I never meant to deceive you. And I never lied to you about my feelings."

Ethan swallowed hard, remembering what he found out about Theresa shortly before marrying Gwen; that bit of information that had, in many ways, prompted his marriage. And he became angry.

"If you cared for me the way you claimed, you couldn't have betrayed me the way you did!"

Tears stung Theresa eyes when he heard his anger begin to spill out. "I don't understand this, Ethan! Yes, my lies were a betrayal, but it was never intentional. I didn't set out to try to become your mother's personal secretary! I certainly never wanted to plan the wedding of the man I loved to another woman! I tried to tell you over and over that I loved you, not some imaginary boyfriend. But you never let me. And then, the lie grew into a such a monster, I was afraid."

"It's about so much more than that, and you know it!"

"No, I don't! You've never given me a straight answer!"

"You want to know what finally made me see your for what you are, Theresa?"

"Yes!"

"Fine. I'll tell you. It was when…."

He stopped when he heard the door open and close.

"Hello Darling! Meredith told me you were up here all by yourself. I know it's a little early for dessert, but I couldn't resist," Gwen called out. Wearing a trenchcoat, she slipped it off to reveal a negligee.

Rounding the corner, her jaw dropped when she saw Ethan with Theresa.

"Well, isn't this all just a little too cozy?" she asked, her voice quivering.

Theresa wiped the tears from her cheeks and said, "Gwen, this isn't what you think."

Gwen pointed her finger at the other woman. "Save it. Just _save it_. I don't want to hear one word from your lying mouth." She turned to Ethan. "And this—this is why you were in such a hurry to leave the house this morning? Now I understand."

She collected the coat and put it back on.

"Gwen, please wait," Ethan said, touching her shoulder.

His wife jerked away from him. "No, Ethan! Nothing you could possibly say interests me at this moment." She looked at Theresa and glared at her. "Enjoy him while you can."

Theresa and Ethan watched helplessly as Gwen stormed out of her husband's office.

"Ethan, I'm sorry."

"Well so am I," he replied bitterly. "Why does my life have to be so complicated?"

"Simplicity seems to have escaped us both," she observed.

He looked back at her. "I need to go after her."

She nodded. "I know."

Watching him leave, she let the tears fall down her face. "I've only made things worse."


	37. Chapter 37

Disclaimer: I do not own _Passions_, etc. This story is purely for entertainment purposes.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Seven: "This Kind of Danger"**

"This is it, Mother! The last straw. God, I have been so foolish!" Gwen exclaimed as she entered the foyer of her parents' home. Looking around her, she flailed her arms, accidentally knocking over a vase.

The sound of breaking glass filled Gwen with an unearthly sense of satisfaction and filled her mother with a sense of horror as Rebecca Hotchkiss came running into the foyer.

Rebecca's eyes widened as she saw the pieces of the vase on the ground. Gwen reached for another valuable decoration, but her mother stopped her.

"Temper, temper," Rebecca lightly admonished her daughter.

Gwen sighed and looked down at the pieces of glass, bent to pick them up, and, in the process, nicked her finger with a shard. As a tiny droplet of blood formed, Rebecca frowned. "That's why we have hired help." Crossing her arms, Rebecca said, "So tell me what's happened now."

"Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald strikes again."

"Then we strike back. It's that simple," Rebecca replied as she walked into the living room and lounged on the couch.

"No, Mother, there's nothing simple about that," Gwen said following her mother. "Nothing simple at all! Every time I turn around, they're together. Ethan and Theresa. Theresa and Ethan. Perhaps I could handle this if it were merely a physical attraction. But I see the love in Ethan's eyes when he looks at her; the love he should be showing when he looks at me, and I hate it! I hate _her_!"

Rebecca patted the cushion of the couch next to her, indicating she wished Gwen to have a seat. Dutifully, Gwen sat next to her mother.

"First thing you need to do is calm yourself. Tell me exactly what happened."

Gwen took a deep breath. "I decided to help baby matters along by surprising Ethan at his office. I thought it might be exciting to have a morning rendezvous, but apparently, someone had already beaten me to the punch."

"Theresa."

"Yes," Gwen hissed. "_Theresa_." The very sound of the woman's name was enough to make Gwen's stomach turn.

"When you showed up, how did they act?"

"They tried to tell me that nothing was going on, but I knew better. With Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald, there's always something going on. No doubt this morning she was trying to get to Ethan with the 'oh-poor-me-my-fiance's-dead' routine. Disgusting! And Ethan—well, he's just trusting enough to fall for it. He believes everything out of her mouth."

Rebecca's scratched her chin thoughtfully. "Not everything," she reminded her daughter. "It seems we made a miscalculation five years ago, but it's time to correct that. What we did put a bandage on the problem, but it didn't cure it. It's time to act more boldly."

"Mother, what do you mean?"

"What I mean is this: what goes around, comes around. And Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald is about to get hers."

Gwen sighed, fighting back the tears. "How can you be so sure?"

"Have I ever let you down? Just trust that Mother knows best."

Gwen gazed at her mother's features, which took on the slyness of a cat about to pounce on its prey. "When you say things like that, you worry me."

"The only one who should be worried is that whiny little gold-digger."

* * *

"I should've called. I just should've called," Theresa muttered to herself as she placed a swatch of fabric on a cutting table before returning to the front of the boutique.

The shipment to Milan was due to be sent in another three days, and she was still getting the samples together. That, on top of putting the finishing touches on Whitney's wedding gown, had made for a very busy few weeks.

She was annoyed with herself for even being consumed with thoughts of the past when there were so many things in the present that required her attention. She just couldn't help herself, though. She desperately wanted closure.

Theresa grimaced as she recalled the crestfallen look on Gwen's face. Regardless of how she felt _about_ Gwen, she couldn't help but feel badly _for_ her. Theresa knew what it was to invest so many hopes and dreams into one person….and be disappointed.

"Leave it to you to only make things worse."

Not only had she succeeded in hurting Gwen, but she'd also managed to bring Ethan's anger to the surface. What did he think she had done? It was about more than weaving a story about an imaginary boyfriend. But would she ever know what else was involved?

She knew it shouldn't matter, but it still did.

Hearing the door to the shop open, Theresa looked up and saw Whitney enter. Their eyes met, and Whitney immediately asked, "So…..how did it go?"

"It didn't," Theresa replied glumly.

"What do you mean?"

"Whit, I never should have gone. Now I've only made things worse!"

"Theresa, honey, what happened?" Whitney asked closing the gap between them.

"I showed up without calling or without being announced by his personal assistant. I was afraid that he wouldn't see me if he knew what I wanted. I tried to get him to open up to me and explain to me what had changed." She sighed. "I even told him about the dream I had. But looking into his eyes today, I was reminded of the look of recrimination and disgust he'd shown me five years ago. I'm no closer to understanding it now than I was then."

"So Ethan became angry with you?"

"Did he ever! The anger and pain in his eyes is something I don't think I'll ever forget. He was just about to tell me what had happened when Gwen showed up to surprise him. Instead, she was the one who ended up being surprised." Theresa shook her head before continuing, "Oh, Whit, she was so hurt by the fact that I was there! I know she thought it was some clandestine rendezvous, and I tried to tell her that nothing was going on…."

"But she wouldn't listen," Whitney supplied. It was a statement, not a question. "Can you blame her, Theresa? She has every reason to distrust you as it is, but because she keeps finding you in these situations with her husband…." Her voice trailed off. "Theresa, you must know that Gwen is going to retreat and lick her wounds, but when she comes back, she's going to come back with a vengeance."

"I—I know. Believe me. But you know what? It would be worth it just to know. How am I supposed to move forward when this is hanging over my head?"

Whitney sighed. "Theresa, it seems to me that Ethan is not the only thing that holds you back."

"What do you mean?" Theresa asked.

"What about Chuck?" Whitney asked.

Theresa's face clouded even more so than before. "I—I can't talk about that," she said turning away.

Whitney walked around her friend to face her. Taking Theresa's left hand, Whitney started, "Theresa, you still wear his ring. So you can't tell me that this fear of moving forward is all about Ethan. Sure, it's convenient to say that's about Ethan, but there's more to this."

Theresa looked at the diamond ring she still wore on her left hand. She couldn't imagine taking it off.

Whitney continued, "You don't want to deal with losing Chuck, so instead you fixate on how you lost Ethan. It's as though you think that correcting things with Ethan will make everything else fall into place."

"I am not fixated on Ethan! Whitney, until today, I never sought him out. I have tried to stay away. I truly have!"

"Regardless of how innocent all of this may be, it doesn't appear that way to Ethan's wife. You're doing Ethan and Gwen more harm than good."

"Well, it's not my fault if Gwen doesn't trust her husband."

Whitney looked at her friend in disbelief. "Uh—yes, it is. You're in love with Ethan, but you don't want to face it. Ethan's in love with you and doesn't want to face it. And Gwen sees all of this, as well as the fact that the relationship that she's shared with Ethan for the last _fifteen_ _years_ is in jeopardy. So it _is_ your fault. At least, partly."

Theresa crossed her arms. "I don't know what you're talking about. I am not in love with Ethan, and Ethan is not in love with me!"

"Right. And zebras can change their stripes."

"Well, in this case, they most certainly can," Theresa replied defiantly.

"Open your eyes, Theresa. For once, see what's in front of you."

"I am seeing quite clearly, thank you very much."

"No, I don't think you are." Whitney took a deep breath. "How long have we been friends?"

"For as long as I can remember."

"Exactly. We've seen each other through the best and worst of times. I know how stubborn you can be. It's a Lopez-Fitzgerald trait, and most definitely something you have in common with Luis. But I also know that your stubbornness can get you into trouble. I seem to recall a certain little girl who used to refuse to drink her milk."

"Not the milk story!" Theresa groaned.

"Just bear with me. I still remember so vividly being at your house for dinnertime and how you used to refuse to drink your milk. Your mother would insist that you drink it, but you would cross your arms and refuse."

"Poor Mama. She should've known right then that I would be a handful," Theresa said smiling slightly as she remembered how Pilar would try to keep a stern look on her soft features.

"Oh, I think she was starting to get an idea," Whitney commented. "Well, I remember one night in particular when you refused to drink your milk. Then you got the bright idea that perhaps if you added orange Tang to the milk, that might make it more palatable."

Theresa wrinkled her nose at the memory.

"So when no one was looking, you went to the pantry, took out the Tang, and added some of the mixture to your milk. I told you not to do it, but you wouldn't listen. You were so proud of yourself, thinking that you had really pulled one over on your mother and Luis."

"And then Mama came in and saw what I'd done."

"Yes, but instead of getting angry with you, she told you to drink up." Whitney laughed. "Oh, the horror on your face when you took that first drink!"

"I'd never tasted anything so disgusting in my entire life! If I thought plain milk was bad…"

"And she stood over you while you had to drink the entire glass. But you had been determined to do it your way, regardless of what anyone else told you; no matter the consequences. And Theresa, I still see that same little girl before me now. Only this time, it isn't about mixing milk and Tang; it's about interfering with people's lives. Theresa, it's time to let go."

"I want to, Whit. I really do, but I don't know how."

"The first step, Theresa, is to concentrate on other things. Don't seek out Ethan. If you see him coming, walk the other way. If someone mentions his name, say to yourself, 'Ethan, who?'. I just don't want to see you fall into a nasty trap again."

"How can I when I don't know what happened to change things?"

"Will knowing change anything, Theresa? No. Ethan is still married to Gwen, and he will remain married to Gwen. Move on, Theresa. Just let go and move on."

Theresa opened her mouth to respond but stopped when she heard the door to the boutique open. In walked Drew Winthrop carrying two large packages.

Theresa tried to put on a happy face, but her intense conversation with Whitney made that a difficult feat. When Drew approached Theresa, he saw the worry line on her forehead and, without a word, leaned down and kissed it. He could feel some of the tension leave her body. With satisfaction, he looked into her luminous brown eyes, willing whatever was bothering her to go away.

"I'm glad you're here," she said simply.

She glanced at Whitney, who was none-too-pleased over the interruption.

"Oh, Whit, you haven't met Drew yet. Whitney Russell, this is Drew Winthrop."

Drew set his packages down and took Whitney's hand. "I feel as though I know you already," Drew said. "Theresa speaks of you often. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, too," Whitney replied as she studied the handsome man. There _was_ something vaguely familiar about him, just as both Chad and Theresa had said. Yet she couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. "Just promise me that you won't believe everything you hear," Whitney said shooting her friend a knowing look.

"I'll keep that in mind," Drew replied with mock seriousness.

Theresa sighed, knowing that Whitney was frustrated with her.

Drew fought the impulse to chuckle. Obviously, he had interrupted something big between the two, but he noticed that Theresa didn't seem too upset over the interruption.

"Well, I need to take off. Theresa, remember what I said. And Drew, once again, it was nice meeting you."

Theresa watched closely as her friend left. "Brrrrr," she said. "I'm glad you came when you did. It was getting a little too cold in here."

Drew smiled. "Fortunately for us, today it's unseasonably warm outside."

Theresa looked out the window wistfully. "Too bad I won't be able to enjoy it. I am up to my elbows with things to do," Theresa sighed. "So what brings you by today? Not that I'm complaining, but I'm surprised."

"Surprise is the spice of life," he said, pulling her close before kissing her.

Theresa felt her head swim. Drew always had that effect on her. "Mmmmm. I like surprises," she said with a grin on her face.

"Good," he said, intertwining his finger with hers. "Come play hooky with me today. We'll go to the park, have a picnic, go rollerblading….."

She groaned. "I would love to, but I can't. I have so much work to catch up on."

"There won't be many days like today left," he said. He swallowed hard, thinking about just how true his words were. Regardless of the fact that fall was upon them, Drew knew that more than likely, by the end of the week, he would have experienced his own fall in Theresa's eyes. "Besides, your work will still be here."

She looked around her and admitted to herself that she definitely could use the distraction. But there was still so much to do!

"You are such a bad influence on me," she sighed.

He circled her waist. "And you are such a good influence on me. Say yes, Theresa. Come with me."

"Drew, I…."

"Say yes, Theresa."

"I…"

"Say yes, Beauty."

She looked into his turquoise blue eyes and felt her resolve waning. Sighing, she replied, "How can I say no to you?"

* * *

So many things were changing. Theresa was finally going to meet Drew's family. When he'd asked her to join him at the Seascape for a family dinner, she'd teased him, "Oooh, so it's time to meet the parents. You know, Drew, this is a big step and a serious one. Are you sure you're ready to take that plunge?"

He'd merely replied, "I've been ready for this for a long time."

Theresa was excited at the prospect of meeting his family, and somewhat nervous, too. But she was determined to enjoy the rest of their day together. She would have the rest of the week to be nervous and anticipate the meeting. But to finally get a better understanding of what made the man tick was quite exciting.

Theresa laughed as Drew picked her up and took her down to the grass. Actually, she'd been laughing so hard the entire afternoon, her sides hurt. Drew Winthrop continually surprised her. Not only had he insisted that she play hooky with him, but he'd thought of everything. He brought with him food for the picnic, clothes for her to change into, as well as rollerblades for her to wear.

With the sun beating down on them, she propped her head on her elbow and looked at him as he lay lazily on the ground. She lightly traced his features with her fingertips. He was so handsome, and he made her feel things that she hadn't felt in a long time.

It should scare her, but it didn't.

"I used to think it was safe to be around you," she murmured.

Drew chuckled. "_Safe_ isn't an adjective most people use to describe me. Actually, I always thought I was the kind of man that mothers warn their daughters about."

"I used to think that, too. That's why I considered you to be safe. I never saw myself becoming involved with someone like you. But that's just it. That wasn't the real you."

"So am I still safe?" he asked as he raised an eyebrow.

"No, I think you're dangerous," she said laying her head on his chest, "and I like this kind of danger."

Words escaped him.

* * *

After taking Theresa back to her boutique, Drew headed over to the Harmony Youth Center. Playing basketball always helped him to regain his focus. And though if anyone asked him he would deny it, he enjoyed spending time with the kids, as well.

Trying to work around Jamaal, Drew took a three point shot. It was their second game of one-on-one, and he hated to admit it, but he just didn't have the stamina that he once had as a fifteen year old boy. Yet he watched in satisfaction as the ball went through the hoop with ease. Baseball had always been his brother's favorite sport, but Drew had always excelled at basketball.

"Andrew?" a voice asked, tinged with surprise.

Drew turned to look at the woman standing on the side of the court.

"Hi Sheridan," he replied distractedly.

"I'm surprised to see you here," his aunt said absently rubbing her now-large stomach. _That was an understatement_, Sheridan thought. To see Andrew Crane playing basketball with a kid from the youth center was almost unthinkable. He had a reputation in the family for being concerned with one person: himself. And now he was giving his time at the center? How unlike him!

"Jamaal and I were just enjoying a little one-on-one basketball. I'm afraid he's running circles around me, though."

Sheridan nodded. "I'll let you get back to your game, but come by my office before you leave. I'd like to talk to you."

"Sure," Drew replied absently before turning his attention back to the teenage boy and their game.

As Drew walked into the youth center office, he noted that his aunt looked rather pale. The last few times he'd seen her, she fluctuated between looking worn out and radiant. This was one of her tiresome moments.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked.

Sheridan looked up from her paperwork. "I'm fine. The baby's just kicking a lot this afternoon. He definitely has his father's stubborn streak," she replied smiling weakly. As if to accentuate her point, the baby kicked once again. "Oh."

"May I?" he asked as he approached her.

She smiled slightly, touched by his desire to feel the kicking baby. "Sure." Sheridan took his hand and placed it over her belly.

Drew was filled with a sense of wonder when the baby made its presence known. "It's amazing, Sheridan!"

"I'm just ready for this little Lopez-Fitzgerald to hurry up and get here. I feel as big as a house!"

"How did you know you were in love?" Drew asked suddenly.

Sheridan smiled. "I don't know. I just….._knew_. I couldn't imagine a life without Luis in it. But we certainly went through our trials." She stopped. "Where is this coming from?"

Drew shrugged. "I was just curious."

"I didn't expect to see you here today."

"Yes, I know. I could tell by your expression. It was the 'what is Drew up to now' expression."

"Am I that transparent?" Sheridan asked.

"Well, we _have_ known each other for a long time."

"And you have seen that look from me enough times," Sheridan said smiling.

Her relationship with Andrew was quite different from her relationship with Ethan. With Ethan, she shared a camaraderie and common views. Yet Andrew was so different. _Much more like a typical Crane male,_ Sheridan thought. Yet his behavior today was anything but typical.

"More times than I care to remember," he replied. "I still don't know why you were here today."

"To play basketball, of course," he replied flippantly.

Sheridan sighed. "Just when I think that you might be turning serious on me, you show me once again that you are still the irrepressible Andrew Crane."

"I will always be irrepressible. I don't think that's a character flaw. Believe me, I have enough character flaws to know the difference. I guess I've just started to realize that there's more out there than my own wants."

"Now you're starting to sound more like Ethan."

Drew's voice grew harsh. "Let's not go there. I wouldn't want to infringe upon his perfection. See you later, Sheridan."

* * *

Stepping out the shower, Drew wrapped himself in a towel and walked through the living room of his hotel suite to the kitchenette.

He could use a drink.

He'd never expected matters to become so complicated; yet they had.

How could he follow through with what he planned? Yet how could he not? Everything was so _perfectly_ in place.

He wasn't used to this business of having a guilty conscience.

Opening the refrigerator, he eyed a bottle of rare wine from his family's private stock that he had swiped from the wine cellar of his parents' home, a can of beer, and bottle of water. Weighing his choices carefully, he opted for the beer before closing the fridge.

He walked back through the living room and was headed to his bedroom to put on his clothes when he heard a light rapping on the door.

"Figures," he muttered.

Walking to the door, he opened it.

"Hello, Stranger," the woman purred.

Drew examined her, realizing that he knew her from somewhere. But where? Oh, yes. He'd met her when he first came back to Harmony and they shared some good times together. What was her name?

The look of confusion must have shown on his features because she added, "It's me. Heather."

"Yes. Of course. What are you doing here?"

She looked him up and down, taking in the sight of a wet, gorgeous man clad in only a towel. Tiny droplets of water were still running down his muscular chest and cut abdomen. Unconsciously, she licked her lips.

Heather let herself in, walking past him and looking at their posh surroundings. "I thought I would take a chance," she replied in a low voice.

"On what?"

"On you, of course. I haven't forgotten about the last night we spent together."

Horror filled Drew's mind. Could this woman he barely knew be pregnant with is child? "You're not…."

She shook her head. "Oh please! Of course not. We were very careful. No, I'm here for an entirely different reason altogether."

Drew was growing impatient with her. "And what might that reason be?"

She pressed her body against his. "I'm here to continue what we started that night."

* * *

Theresa smiled as she walked down the hallway toward Drew's hotel suite. The day had started so inauspiciously, but had become much better as it progressed, largely due to Drew. She'd managed to finish her work earlier than she thought she would, motivated largely by a desire to see the man that was slowly, but surely, creeping into her heart.

She still marveled at how he had come into her life when he did. Yes, fate could be good to her.

Rounding the corner as she approached his suite, she could hear voices. One of the voices was his and the other was a voice she didn't recognize; the voice of a woman.

She knew she should allow him to have his conversation in private, but curiosity got the better of her. Besides, the door to his suite was open.

* * *

Drew gently took her arms and pushed her away. "Heather, we both agreed that it was a one time deal."

"We can change that, though."

Theresa's image filled his mind. "No, we can't. I've met someone that I really care about."

"She doesn't have to know," Heather pointed out.

He shook his head. "But I would know. And that just isn't worth it to me."

Heather frowned. "I don't believe it! You're nothing like I thought you were. What's happened to you?"

"I think I've finally come to my senses," Drew replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have things I need to take care of."

Heather shook her head. "Your loss. I hope she's worth it."

"She is."

* * *

Theresa watched as the woman left Drew's suite, and the door closed behind her. It gave her a strange feeling to think that he had been with her.

_But he just turned her down because of you_, she reminded herself.

She walked to the door and lifted her hand to knock. Gathering her courage, she touched her knuckles to the wood and waited.

A moment later, Drew opened the door, still wearing only the towel and a vexed expression.

Theresa's eyes widened at the sight of him. She always knew that he was a handsome man-a sexy man-but she never knew just how handsome or how sexy he was.

His expression melted to relief when he saw it was Theresa.

"I know I probably should have called, but I really wanted to see you."

He reached out and gently touched her hair. "I'm glad you're here. Please come in."

"Thank you," she replied as she walked into the suite. They'd spent some time there, but not much. Whenever they were together, they typically were either at her house or out and about town.

"I just got out of the shower a few minutes ago. I was on my way to get dressed."

"No hurry," Theresa chirped. Immediately, she slapped her hand over her mouth. Did she just say that _out loud_?

Drew laughed lightly and kissed her on the forehead.

She looked up into his eyes, and her heart pounded. His nearness was intoxicating. Stepping back she said, "I'm sorry. I can't believe I just said that."

"No apologies necessary, Beauty."

With that, she watched as he disappeared into his bedroom to get dressed. A part of her wished she were in there with him.

When he emerged a couple of minutes later, he had pulled on a pair of khaki pants and a plain white t-shirt. As he moved, she could still see the muscles in his chest. Yes, she decided that Drew Winthrop could definitely wear a t-shirt well.

She couldn't believe the thoughts she was having about him. Yet apparently, she thought ruefully, she wasn't alone in those thoughts. Other women felt the same as she did.

Sitting next to Theresa on the couch, Drew put his arm around her. "This is a nice surprise."

"I had such a wonderful time today. I just wanted to see you again and tell you. You always know how to make me feel better."

"Something happened earlier?"

"I did something that backfired on me. I don't know what, if anything, will come from it, but it was on my mind, and you helped to take it away."

"Glad to be of service," he responded, cupping her face and lightly running his thumb over her lips.

"I need…"

But her words were cut off by his kiss. As his lips possessed hers, she knew that she very easily could lose herself in him. His kissed were hot, intoxicating, and left her breathless—wanting more.

She broke away from his kiss abruptly.

Breathing heavily, he asked, "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I need to talk to you. Drew, I—I heard you talking to that woman."

Drew silently cursed as he felt his heart begin to pound. Would she even want to see him anymore? The very thought of that possibility gave him a horrible, sinking feeling.

"Theresa, I'm sorry."

She held her fingertips up to his lips "There's nothing to be sorry for. When I first met you, I knew that there were women in your past."

He took her hand in his. "I didn't know she would show up here."

"I know. But I also heard you send her away—because of me."

"Theresa, you make me want to be a better man. Hell, you make me want a lot of things that I've never wanted before."

"Like what?"

"A home. A family—not like the one I had growing up—but a real family. You make me wish I were more like my brother; more responsible, more loyal. And—I can't believe I'm saying this—but you make me want to love and be loved. My old life….it just isn't good enough anymore. I want more. I want _you_."

His lips found hers, but this time his kiss was not demanding. It was tender, almost as though he was afraid he would break her if he weren't careful.

Yet his tender kiss left her feeling an even greater tumult of emotions. Was it possible to feel so many things at once?

"Just when I think that you couldn't possibly find another way to surprise me….," she said as she rested her head against his chest and sighed contentedly. "I'm still amazed that you came into my life when you did. And I simply think that you are amazing and wonderful. You show me everyday that being with someone doesn't have to hurt—and it doesn't have to be about lies. I've never known anyone like you, Drew Winthrop."

She felt him become tense.

"I'm not who you think I am, Theresa."

She looked up at him, confusion in her eyes. "What do you mean?"

He took a deep breath. "There's something you should know."


	38. Chapter 38

Disclaimer: I do not own _Passions._ But you all knew that already... :)

Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews and messages. I really do appreciate them. It's nice to know the story is being enjoyed.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Eight: "Want"**

Drew looked down into Theresa's deep brown eyes and knew that she deserved the truth. Her faith in him was misguided.

Yet what would she think of him once she knew the truth? That he only sought her out because of what she once was-_-correction-_-still was to his brother. She would be horrified, of course. But wouldn't it be better for her to know now rather than later? Didn't she deserve at least that much?

"This sounds serious," she said quietly.

He nodded slowly. "It is. As a matter of fact, you might not want to have anything to do with me once you hear what I have to say."

"I find that hard to believe."

He stood, extricating himself from her grasp. He found it difficult to think clearly with her arms wrapped around him. "Well, just wait until you hear what I have to say."

"I'm listening," she replied.

Pacing anxiously, he began to speak. "When I met you that day on the beach, I thought in some ways that you were heaven sent; that you were the provision of the perfect opportunity for something that I'd always wanted to do."

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"You don't understand. What I wanted to do-"

_R-r-r-r-r-i-n-g!_

"What I'm trying to say-"

_R-r-r-r-r-i-n-g!_

Drew looked at the phone in disgust. Whoever was trying to call had rotten timing. He walked to the phone, picked up the receiver, and immediately returned it to the receptacle, ending the aggravation of listening to its incessant ringing.

"Much better," he muttered. He looked back at Theresa and could see concern creeping into her features. She was concerned for _him_. He hated to know what would be going through her tender heart once she heard what he had to tell her.

She stood and walked to where he stood. She looped her arm with his and leaned against his shoulder. "Whatever it is, Drew, I can take it."

He sighed. She sounded so resolute, but there was something in her voice that made him hesitate. It was as though she was trying to hone all her strength into that one statement for his sake. He looked down at her small hands and saw the diamond ring on her left ring finger. He was the first man she'd been involved with since her fiance had died. And this was what she was getting for the trust she had placed in him?

_R-r-r-r-r-i-n-g!_

"Perhaps you should get that. Since they called back, it might be important," Theresa suggested softly.

Drew nodded and walked to the cordless phone and picked it up.

"Hello."

_"Andrew! Thank God I caught you! What happened just now? We were disconnected."_

Drew grimaced upon hearing Ethan's voice. Looking back at Theresa, he noted that she was surveying him with interest. No, it wouldn't do to have her know to whom he was speaking.

"Sorry. I was in the middle of something," Drew replied.

_"Oh." _

Drew could almost hear the wheels in his brother's head turning. "Why were you calling?"

_"Have you seen Gwen?" _Ethan asked_. _

"I don't keep up with your wife," Drew reminded him. "Besides, she's not my biggest fan."

_"Damn,"_ Ethan muttered. _"I've been trying to track her down all day. I knew it was a long shot, but I had to try."_

Drew couldn't resist. "Did something happen?" he asked as he walked into the bedroom and out of Theresa's earshot.

_"You could say that. Theresa came to see me today at my office. We were talking about the past and about us when Gwen showed up."_

Theresa went to see his brother? Drew felt a twinge of something that he couldn't entirely identify. He looked back at Theresa who had taken a seat back on the couch. So _that_ was the errand that had gone wrong? What would have happened between them if Gwen hadn't shown up?

"Oh? What happened then?"

_"We tried to tell her that nothing was going on, but she wouldn't listen. She took off, and I haven't seen her since."_

"I wouldn't worry too much. She never strays too far from home," Drew replied flippantly thinking of Ethan's wife. Oh, yes, she might like attention from men, but she always returned to her position as a Crane wife.

_"I don't even know why I'm talking about this with you."_

"Family is family," Drew replied. "So you haven't seen her. Well, tell me this...how did things go with Theresa?"

_"Now is not the time for that,"_ Ethan replied, annoyance creeping into his voice.

"Au contraire," Drew retorted gently. "Now's the perfect time. Unless, Gwen caught you in a more compromising position than you are willing to admit...," Drew added, fishing for information.

_"Get your mind out of the gutter, Andrew! Yes, there might be an attraction between Theresa and me. Yes, I might think about her from time to time. But she and I are not having an affair! I am married to Gwen, and my wife has been nothing but honest with me."_

Drew chortled. His brother could be so blind! "Ah yes, Gwen Crane: the paragon of virtue. If we can, let's hold off on the canonization."

_"I'm glad you find my situation to be so amusing," _Ethan wryly replied.

"Amusing? Not exactly. Listen, my girl is waiting for me so that we can get back to where we were. Good luck finding Gwen, though you can look at it this way; perhaps she's finally left for good and done you both a favor."

With that, Drew turned off the phone.

He sat on his bed, leaning forward. Taking a deep breath, he rubbed his eyes.

He was so tired of his brother's 'perfection.' How wonderfully ironic that he'd managed to find himself in such a compromising position. Of course, no one else would see it that way, particularly his family. Ethan could do no wrong in their eyes, and Drew suspected that he could do very little wrong in Theresa's eyes, either. _Forget canonizing Gwen. Perhaps Mother and Father should erect a statue devoted to St. Ethan, _Drew thought_. _

He pictured the young woman sitting in the other room and felt disgusted with himself for letting his involvement with her become clouded with emotions. He'd almost made a serious mistake and jeopardized everything that he'd been working toward by confessing his true intentions.

_Theresa's feelings are_ her _problem. But what I'm doing can't be so bad. After all, how deep are her feelings for me if she's chasing after a married man?_

He was beginning to wish he'd taken Heather up on her offer.

He raised an eyebrow, once again cognizant of the irony of his brother's situation. Little did Ethan know, but his little phone call had just sown the seed of his own emotional downfall, and it served to remind Drew of his purpose.

He could not deviate from that. But what should he tell Theresa?

She was expecting something...

And she would get something...

* * *

"Any luck?" Sheridan asked Ethan as she walked into her living room and handed him a cup of tea.

He shook his head as he took the tea from her. "No, but Andrew did seem to take great pleasure in our conversation. I am so tired of his smugness."

Sheridan sat next to her nephew and struggled to find a comfortable position. "He was at the youth center earlier, which really surprised me."

"Andrew was at the youth center? Why?"

"He was playing basketball with Jamaal, one of the kids. They seemed to have a real camaraderie, and apparently this is something they've done before."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Andrew always did enjoy basketball, but I just can't see him volunteering his time with a youth organization. He always enjoyed certain other pursuits more."

Sheridan rolled her eyes. "Women. He's just like my brother and father in that respect."

Ethan nodded. "I suppose what really got to me when I talked to him was his implication that Gwen was right to suspect that there is something surreptitious going on between Theresa and me. But Sheridan, it was completely innocent! We were trying to clear the air. That's _all_. I just wish Gwen could see that."

"Ethan, what Gwen sees is how you react each time you're near Theresa or even hear her name mentioned. Yes, she is insecure, but I think she has every right to feel insecure because you haven't exactly given her reason to feel confident."

"How do I make her more confident?"

Sheridan shook her head. "You can't make someone confident, but you can give them the tools that they need. My suggestion to you: let Theresa go. Steer clear of her. If you see her coming, go the other way. Don't let yourself get caught up in thinking about her. Rather than concentrating on the past, concentrate on your future with Gwen. She loves you very much, Ethan."

"I know, and I love her, too."

"Then start acting like it. Look, I know that sounds harsh, but you're heading down a very dangerous path. I just don't want to see you get hurt, and I don't want to see Gwen or Theresa get hurt, either."

Ethan stood and began pacing. "Where could she be? I've tried to find her everyplace that I could think of."

"Knowing Gwen, my guess is that she's with her mother. I know you tried to find her there earlier, but you know that Gwen leans very heavily on Rebecca."

Ethan groaned. "Rebecca only helps to fuel Gwen's fears and anger."

"Then start being a supportive husband again, and Rebecca won't have a leg to stand on."

* * *

"What a wonderful choice, Mrs. Crane," said the clerk at Edmonton's, one of Boston's finest boutiques. "I'm certain you'll look just lovely in this ensemble."

Gwen looked back at her mother and smiled. Rebecca merely nodded approvingly.

"Thank you. I intend to enjoy this, along with the others," Gwen said indicating the colorful shopping bags neatly lined in a row.

"How will you be paying today?" asked the clerk.

"Actually, I would like for you to send my husband the bill. And do make sure to add a nice bonus for yourself onto the check," Gwen said.

A wide grin broke out onto the middle-aged woman's face. "Yes, Mrs. Crane. Have a wonderful evening!"

"Oh, I intend to," Gwen replied before taking the handles of the bags to her newest purchases.

As she and her mother made their way back outside, a black limousine greeted them. Settling back into the plush leather interior of the vehicle, Gwen closed her eyes.

"I'm proud of you, Dear. When I suggested this little shopping venture, I didn't think you would agree to it. I figured you would want to throw yourself into your work, but where's the fun in that?" Rebecca commented, the wrinkling of her nose subtly indicating her disdain for Gwen's insistence upon a career.

Gwen opened her eyes and looked at her mother. "There is a certain pleasure in shopping, though it can be so exhausting," Gwen concurred. "I have an idea. Why don't we stay in Boston tonight? We can return to Harmony tomorrow. I'm certainly in no hurry to return."

Rebecca shook her head. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Gwen. You mustn't allow Ethan free reign to do as he chooses. No, you have to keep at him. Play on his guilt."

Gwen looked at all the packages they were taking home with them. "Well, I am taking home some consolation prizes."

"It's the least he can do," Rebecca muttered. "But come now, Gwen. You mustn't give up."

"Oh, Mother, you have nothing to worry about there. I have no intention relinquishing Ethan. Especially to that little tramp."

Rebecca smiled. "It sounds to me as though you're up to something. Do share, Gwen. I love a good intrigue!"

"You have your secrets, and I have mine," Gwen replied.

* * *

Theresa stood in the doorway of Drew's bedroom. "Is everything alright?" she asked.

Drew looked up at her and felt his heart lurch. It wasn't going to be as easy as he thought to put his emotions aside. But that was what he going to have to do.

"Perfect," he replied. "Especially now that you're here." He took her hand and led her to the window. In the distance, they could see the ocean with ships leaving the harbor.

"I never grow tired of the sight," she said softly.

He nodded. "Yes, for over three hundred years people have stared at the same harbor, watching the ships leave for ports unknown. And I imagine this will continue three hundred years from now."

"Careful, Mr. Winthrop. You are dangerously close to sounding like a dreamer."

He raised an eyebrow. "I am many things, but one thing I am not is a dreamer. Sometimes idealism has to be sacrificed at the throne of practicality."

"Not when you have something worth believing in," she replied gently.

She cast her eyes on the ocean, and Drew noted the faraway look they held.

Drew turned away from her, his two greatest desires in contrast with each other. He wanted her. Really wanted her. Not just sexually, though he wanted that, too. But whether he wanted to admit it or not, he wanted _her_. But he also wanted to take his brother down a notch or two, and she was his ticket. For Ethan to finally find out that Theresa was his "lover" was something that he'd been working toward for quite some time. He couldn't just give up on that.

She turned and looked at him. "Drew, what were you going to tell me?"

"It's not important anymore," he replied brusquely.

She sighed and rubbed his back. "You always keep me guessing."

Yet he did not hear her completely. His eyes were closed.

Her touch felt so good, though it was merely a chaste gesture. The muscles in his back still weren't back to normal after the basketball match he played with Jamaal. As much as he hated to admit it, he wasn't as resilient as he used to be, especially in comparison to a fifteen year old boy.

"You are so tense," Theresa observed. Her hands went to his waist as she tugged at his shirt. "Take off your shirt and lie on the bed."

As her hands raked against his chest, he drew in a breath. Didn't she realize what she was doing to him?

"Why, Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald, I thought you'd never ask," he teased as he lay on the bed.

"You are incorrigible!" she laughed. Sitting next to him on the mattress, she began massaging his shoulders and back in silence. Was his skin hot...or was it just her?

Running her fingers along the well-defined muscles in his back and broad shoulders and along his narrow waist, she sighed. He was one of the most handsome, sexiest men she'd ever known. She was undeniably drawn to him, and she wasn't entirely sure she should feel that way.

"That feels so good," he murmured, breaking into her thoughts.

"Good," she replied. "You shouldn't let your muscles get into knots, you know."

"Ah-the perils of competing against a younger man."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I went over to the youth center after I took you back to work and played a little one-on-one. I guess I keep forgetting that I'm not as young as I used to be."

Theresa laughed lightly. "Oh, you're positively _ancient_!"

"Compared to a fifteen year old boy," Drew reminded her.

"So did you win?" she asked.

"I always win. I just pay the price later," he replied.

She frowned. "Why do I get the feeling we aren't talking about basketball anymore?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

She sighed. He had been in such a strange mood since she got there. She wanted to lighten the mood a little.

"My sister-in-law Sheridan works at the youth center. You might know her. She used to be Sheridan Crane. Did you happen to see her today?"

_Did I ever! _he thought, but instead said, "I don't believe so."

Theresa smiled. "You would know her if you saw her. She's so beautiful, with the most amazing blue eyes and porcelain skin."

"Is it strange to have her as your sister-in-law considering your relationship with her nephew?" Drew asked. He involuntarily held his breath, waiting for her answer.

Theresa bristled. "Well, first off, I don't _have_ a relationship with her nephew."

_Wrong, Theresa. You _are_ involved with Sheridan's nephew. But even if you weren't seeing me, I don't honestly believe it's completely over with you and Ethan. If it were, you would stay away from each other._

Theresa continued, "Ethan and I were over a long time ago, regardless of the rumor mill. But to answer your question, no. It's not strange in the least. Sheridan has really kept her distance from the Crane family, which is probably a good decision on her part. Luis is convinced that they were responsible for our papa's death, and I can't help but think that he may be right."

Drew lifted himself and supported his weight with his elbows. He didn't like where this conversation was going. "From what I hear, there's never been any evidence to support your brother's claim."

"Just because Luis hasn't found it yet, that doesn't mean that there isn't something to be found. A few years ago, my brother Miguel and his friend Kay were even doing some investigating on their own. We thought that maybe they were onto something, but it never entirely panned out. And then with Kay's death...it just didn't seem to matter anymore at the time."

"But now it does?" he asked.

Theresa swallowed hard. "It will always matter. My mother deserves to know the truth about her husband. For years, she lit a candle each night, anxiously awaiting his return. No one should have to live with the uncertainty that she's faced for the last twenty years. And Luis-he gave up on so many dreams when Papa left because he wanted to make sure that Miguel, Paloma, and I would have a better life. I will never forget that. If we can prove that Alistair or Julian Crane are responsible for Papa's death, they should have to face the consequences of their actions!"

"Even if Sheridan or Ethan get caught in the fray?"

"They can take care of themselves," Theresa replied. "Besides, they were just children at the time of my father's 'disappearance.' They couldn't possibly be held accountable."

"I'm surprised by you," he said simply.

"Why?" Theresa asked.

"It's just interesting to me that you would want your brother to pursue this vendetta against the Crane family, especially considering that his wife is a Crane."

Theresa groaned. "You have no idea of what they are capable of. They tried to keep Luis and Sheridan apart, and they almost succeeded. Luis and Sheridan's love has shown great perseverance and strength. Sheridan is all too aware of the capabilities of her father and brother. They did everything they could to undermine my brother's relationship with her, but their love prevailed in the end. It will prevail through even this."

"How can you be so sure? It's one thing for families to fight amongst themselves, but whenever outsiders start creating problems, families have a tendency to band together."

"Have you ever been in love, Drew?"

His response was immediate. "No."

"Then I don't think you can understand. True love is powerful...a force of nature, really. It can overcome _any_ boundaries placed before it."

He said nothing.

Theresa lay on her side next to him, merely raking her fingernails lightly across his back. His body was beginning to respond accordingly, despite the fact that he didn't appreciate the things she had to say about his family. She didn't seem to have any idea of what she was doing to him.

A few moments later, she said suddenly, "Drew, you've been with so many women. You didn't love any of them?"

His turquoise eyes met her brown ones. "Love and sex do not necessarily go hand in hand," he told her bluntly. "Life isn't all about fairy tales and happy endings. Life is about desire and what drives people. For example, you might want me to kiss you."

To illustrate his point he pulled her close and took her mouth. Her mind told her that she should resist, but her body wouldn't let her. Everything in her responded to his kisses as their tongues sparred.

Breathing hard between kisses, he added, "You might want me to touch you." Lightly, he trailed his fingers down the side of her face and then lower. She felt his large hands slipping beneath the shirt she wore. She gasped with pleasure as he cupped her right breast, his fingers kneading her sensuously until her nipple was tautly erect against the lacy fabric of her brassiere.

"Hell, you might even say that you want me inside of you," he said hoarsely as he pulled her even closer. She became acutely aware of the heat between his thighs pressing into her, tight, hard, and close, but not close enough.

He forced himself to break off the kiss. "But none of that means that you're in love, Theresa. It only proves one thing: the existence of lust. Now, what do you want?"

She reached up and touched his face. "That's just it, Drew. Life is about more than what I want. Right now I _want_ to throw caution to the wind. I _want_ to be with you. I _want_ to know what it would be like to sleep with you. I _want_ to share that closeness with you. But I also have to think about more than just what I want. I have to think about what's best for me."

She looked at the diamond ring she wore on her left hand; the diamond ring that had once signified that she would be Chuck Wilson's wife.

She struggled to sit up.

"I'm sorry Drew, but now just isn't the right time. I might want to sleep with you, but I need more than physical gratification. I was just reminded of that fact," she said looking down at the ring once again.

He took her hand. "How long will you wear this, Theresa?"

"I don't know," she replied. She still didn't have the courage or the will to take it off. "You knew from the beginning that I had unresolved issues, Drew. And I'm sorry that I picked a bad time to bring them up again, but this is who I am. I know you must think that I have more baggage than the claims area at the airport. Just give me time."

He kissed her chastely on the top of the head before reaching for his shirt.

"Just so long as you don't give up on the idea of wanting," he said huskily.

She smiled. "I have the feeling that I'll be thinking about this night for a long time to come."

* * *

Leaning against the railing on the wharf, Gwen breathed deeply. She knew it was a common place for people to go, but for the life of her, she could not understand why. It was not a particularly pleasant place. The combination of the smell of fish and salty water hung in the air. The fishy smell vaguely reminded her of the Crane Fish Cannery, and that day so long ago when she and Ethan went to supervise the work taking place.

Gwen frowned. Theresa certainly made her presence known that day when she dumped the fish guts on Ethan. Gwen still wasn't entirely convinced that it was not done purposely.

"Some people will do anything for attention," she muttered.

She smirked at the irony of her statement_. Who am I to talk? _she thought to herself as she looked down at her dress, one of her new purchases from Boston. She had been feeling exceedingly risqué that evening upon the disappointing realization that Ethan was not waiting for her at home. She wanted attention, and if her husband was not going to give it to her...

So she left the house with every intention of letting Ethan know what it felt like to be on the receiving end of a cuckolding. Yet as she found herself approaching the nightspots, she realized she just didn't have it in her to go on a manhunt. Perhaps if she had her mother's brashness...but she simply didn't. Sure, she enjoyed a good flirtation, but beyond that, she had learned her lesson the hard way.

Crossing her arms, she thought of Andrew. If only there was a good way to get the upper hand where he was concerned. From what Ethan told her, he did seem to be quite interested in a young woman. Perhaps if she could find out who this young woman was, she could impart some of her knowledge about Andrew to her.

She sighed. It was a good thought, but her encounter with Andrew was so long ago. Perhaps if they'd slept together while he was dating this woman, it would matter, but as things stood, that was not the case. Something that happened five and a half years ago wouldn't matter to this woman.

Yet it would matter to Ethan if he found out. At the very least if Ethan wasn't hurt, he certainly would be angry. Would that give him an excuse to put her aside? She knew Ethan tried to be an honorable man, and he had made a commitment to her. Otherwise, they wouldn't still be together. Yet if he no longer felt honor bound to her, that would be the end. And if he found out about her dalliance with his brother or how she and her mother had set Theresa up... that would be the final straw.

But how could she keep Andrew quiet?

Yes, she did need the upper hand.

* * *

A cold shower hadn't done much good, Drew decided. He'd been doing too much of that lately.

Why had he felt compelled to turn Heather down? He wanted a warm body next to him, but it certainly didn't look as though Theresa was going to comply.

The answer, though he didn't want to face it, was staring him down. He had allowed himself to become a slave to his emotions, something that he had vowed never to do. What was it about Theresa that elicited such a reaction from him that he would willingly forego the pleasure of being with women?

"I need to break her hold on me," he thought as he headed toward Scorpion, a nightspot close to the wharf. Last time he'd been in Harmony, it had been a teen hangout called Making Waves, but it had obviously evolved.

Walking along the wharf, he caught sight he saw a familiar figure standing near the railing. Was that who he thought it was?

He smiled. Taunting Gwenie always gave him a much-needed rush. Besides, he did have some wonderful ammunition, thanks to his not-so-perfect brother.

Hearing footsteps behind her, Gwen turned around.

"All dressed up and nowhere to go, I see."

Gwen forced a smile. "And I see you were on your way somewhere. Back to Hell, perhaps?"

"Good one," he said standing next to her, leaning on the rail.

"Thank you. I thought so," she said.

"Actually, Gwenie, that dress is quite fetching," he said, his eyes raking her up and down. "Too bad Ethan's not around to see it. I can't really say I'm surprised. I think he might've had a date with his girlfriend tonight."

He watched for a reaction, but she said nothing. She merely stared at the water and willed him to go away.

"Where's your come-back? You know I depend on you for some good old-fashioned verbal sparring."

"Actually, I was just wondering why you aren't with _your_ girlfriend tonight. Is there a snake in paradise? Oh, wait. You would happen to be that snake, wouldn't you? Damn. There goes that theory."

He yawned, as though bored with the conversation. "You would know about snakes, wouldn't you, Gwen. You _and_ your mother."

She looked at him, hate surging through her. Hate and something else.

"Well, you know what snakes do. Snakes slither," she said in a low voice as she seductively ran a finger down his chest, "and they glide."

Drew's breath caught within him. Was Gwen trying to _entice_ him? To what end?

Oh, this was just too delicious.

With a plan formulated in her mind, she looked at him smugly, realizing that just perhaps, she did have it in her to finally and officially cheat on Ethan. And if it gave her the results she wanted, all the better.

"Someone's feeling naughty tonight," he said pulling her to him.

"You have no idea," she murmured, arching her hips against him. She smiled as she realized she was getting the response from him that she wanted. "At least, not yet. What would you say if I told you that I could show you just how naughty I'm feeling? What do you want, Andrew?"


	39. Chapter 39

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews. I'm glad you've been enjoying the story. I hated to leave you hanging too long to find out just what Drew and Gwen would do, so here is the next installment. There's also a nice twist thrown into the mix with this chapter. I hope you have fun reading. :)

**Chapter Thirty-Nine: "Bitter Medicine"**

Drew looked down into the eyes of his female companion. Gwen was looking up at him expectantly, but there was something more in her eyes.

He didn't like what he saw.

What was she up to?

"Well, Andrew," she said becoming impatient. "What do you want?"

He pushed her away from him and shook his head. "Not you," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.

Gwen felt her jaw drop involuntarily. _She was so certain..._

"I d-don't understand," she said, crossing her arms. "We've been moving toward this for a long time!"

"Maybe you've been moving toward this a long time, but I haven't. Once was enough for me."

Gwen lifted her hand and took a swing at her brother-in-law. He easily deflected her blow.

"Are we really to this point?" he asked. "What are you trying to prove?"

She turned away from him. What was happening to her? Had she really lost that much control over her life? "Get away from me!" she demanded.

"As you wish," he replied, backing off.

"If you tell Ethan about this..."

"And cut him free to pursue his other interests? What would be the advantage of that?"

Gwen tried to straighten her posture and hold her head up high, as if to indicate that she still had control over the situation, though she knew very well that she did not. She ignored his question. "Just so that we understand each other."

"Oh, I think I have your number, Gwenie," Drew replied.

Casually, he strolled on down the wharf. Once he was a good distance from her, he stopped and leaned against the railing. What was he thinking? He didn't even like Gwen. To come so close to giving in...

He shuddered to think about it.

Yet what had him even more concerned was the desperation that he saw in Gwen's eyes. He'd seen the look before in people's eyes; summarily before they did something foolish. The question was: what would Gwen do next?

* * *

Theresa stood on the front doorstep of Luis and Sheridan's home. She wasn't entirely sure what she was doing there. Perhaps, she decided, she needed to be around the person who had helped to anchor her for most of her life. Luis had been her anchor. He was more of a father than a brother to her, and right now, she could use his guidance.

It had been such a strange day. She thought of the conversation she'd had with Drew about the Cranes, and it brought up the old lingering doubts about her father. Would they ever know what had happened to Martin Fitzgerald with any degree of certainty?

And then there was Drew himself. Theresa had become so accustomed to steadying herself, she wasn't sure what to do when someone came along and put her off balance. Drew Winthrop certainly did that.

He'd been in a peculiar mood that day. It was almost as if he had so many things within himself struggling to get out. He could be so loving, as he showed her by taking her away from her worries. It had been such an amazing afternoon at the park. She had a hard time remembering the last time she'd laughed so hard. But Drew was such a paradox. He had the ability to turn around and be so calculating. She'd seen that side of him that evening.

She felt her cheeks grow hot as she thought about their kisses. She'd wanted to give into him so badly, but she couldn't let herself.

Why couldn't she?

She knew that it wouldn't truly be a betrayal of Chuck. He would have wanted her to be happy. She'd had several conversations with his mother since her return to Harmony, and Mrs. Wilson had urged her to find someone with whom to share her life.

Theresa enjoyed Drew's company immensely. So why did she hesitate to become more involved with him?

In the back of her mind, she knew why. But she also knew that she must never give those thoughts a voice. It was something that could never be.

Trying to shake the thoughts from her mind, she knocked on the door again.

Still no answer.

As she turned to leave, she heard the door open. "Theresa!"

Theresa spun around when she heard that voice-_his_ voice-the voice that had so often in the past occupied her thoughts and her dreams.

She swallowed hard and felt the blood drain from her face as she remembered the debacle she had caused in his office. She was the last person he would want to see. "Ethan! I-I didn't know you were here," Theresa stammered.

"I came to see Sheridan."

"Oh. Um, I came to see Luis. I take it he isn't home then," Theresa said. No, it wasn't likely to find Luis and Ethan in the same place-if either man could help it.

_What a terrible position Sheridan must find herself in_, Theresa thought. _For the two men that she loves most in the world to have such an obvious disdain for each other must be quite difficult for her. If circumstances were different, I might be in the same situation._

Ethan shook his head. "You know us so well," he replied. "I made sure that he wasn't here before I came over. I didn't want to cause Sheridan any distress."

"Perhaps I should have done the same. Called, I mean. I know that I'm probably the last person you want to see right now, especially after what happened today," Theresa replied.

He hesitated, not because of the words she said, but because of the way she said them. She looked so sadly beautiful. Would she ever stop taking his breath away?

"You couldn't have known what would happen. Besides, you have as much a right to be here as I do, Theresa," he said stepping aside. "Please come in."

Theresa walked past him, and their eyes met for a brief instance. They were so close to each other, but they might as well have been miles apart. Nothing could ever happen between them.

As Theresa walked past him, Ethan felt his breath catch within him. Everything about her was intoxicating, from the scent of her hair to the slight worry line that creased her forehead. He wished he could take it away. Yet he feared that he only added to her worries.

Walking into the warmth of the living room, Theresa turned around and saw Ethan close the door.

"Actually, you probably have _more_ of a right to be here that I do," Ethan said with a wry smile. "If your brother knew that I was here, he wouldn't be pleased. Come on in and have a seat. Sheridan's on the phone in the other room, but I imagine she'll be off soon."

"Thank you," Theresa replied quietly.

She began to remove her coat, and he came behind her and gave her assistance. As she felt his nearness, she knew she needed to put distance between them.

_Why do I still do this to myself? _she wondered.

There could be nothing between them. She wasn't even sure she wanted there to be anything between them. So why did she betray herself through her reactions?

"Ethan, about today...I'm very sorry. I never intended..."

"I know," he replied.

Theresa felt some of the tension leaving her body. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Ethan had the ability to calm her nerves but make her feel butterflies at the same time. They'd always had such an amazing rapport, and above all, she missed his friendship.

"I hope you do. I just feel as though I'm always causing trouble for you. Come to think of it, I always have."

"Trouble? I've never regretted it, Theresa. Never. Though I suppose that we didn't have a very auspicious start. People probably wouldn't believe it if we told them."

She laughed lightly remembering all the accidents she'd had around Ethan when they first met. "Don't remind me! First there was the blue paint I dumped on you at the Carnival. Then there was the hot liniment I rubbed on your back that made you turn into a lobster! What made you decide to enter the Mr. Harmony Hunk contest anyway?"

"It was for a good cause. Gwen was convinced that it would help me to fit in more with the locals."

Theresa smiled. "Well, that's one way of getting along with the locals. The local girls, as least. Instead you ended up thinking that I was stalking you."

Ethan chuckled at the thought.

"Well, it wasn't so funny at the time, was it?" Theresa replied in exasperation.

"We did have some crazy coincidences, didn't we?"

"More like several rude awakenings! And then when I was working at the Burger Hut and you ended up with milkshakes and barbecue sauce on you ..."

"Don't forget the Chicken Shack. You had to wear that costume."

"But you still saw through that. You always did have a special talent in that respect. You look deeper than appearances. I remember how you talked about my eyes-and I remember the poem you read to me."

_"She walks in beauty, like the night_

_Of cloudless climes and starry skies;_

_And all that's best of dark and bright_

_Meet in her aspect and her eyes:_

_Thus mellowed to that tender light_

_Which heaven to gaudy day denies..."_

She smiled, "It's just as beautiful now as it was then, Ethan." Lightly laughing, she added, "But I still dumped fish guts on you."

Ethan shuddered, "And I've never looked at fish the same way. Of course, all of that was nothing compared to when you really blew into my life."

A flurry of memories flooded his mind: how beautiful she looked the night of the ballet and how thrilled she was to be there, dancing together at the jazz club, the time they spent at the Crane cabin, swinging over the water at Hidden Hollow, baking cookies, silly games they played, flying to San Diego to go to the Chris Isaak concert, time spent in Bermuda...so many happy memories.

Yet along with those happy memories came so much pain. He would never forget when he found out the truth about Theresa. The hurt, anger, and disappointment had almost been too much to bear. Everything that he believed in had been a lie. Those beautiful memories were a lie.

Why did he still want to believe in those lies? Why did he find himself still wanting to believe in her despite everything?

"It's a wonder you ever survived Hurricane Theresa," she said grimacing.

"Who says I have?" he asked with sudden seriousness. The mood was broken and the light, playful banter gone.

"Ethan, I-," Theresa began but stopped as she saw her sister-in-law walk into the room.

"Theresa, I didn't know you were here," Sheridan said, surprise etching her features. She looked to her nephew, and shot him a look that Theresa could not entirely decipher.

Theresa tried to muster a smile. "I came by hoping to see Luis, but I suppose my timing was off."

"Actually I was just on the phone with him. He won't be home until much later. He's been called in on a breaking case."

"It goes along with the job, I suppose," Theresa replied. How she'd wanted to talk to her brother!

"Yes, it does," Sheridan replied impassively still trying to gage the situation between her nephew and sister-in-law. She felt as though she'd been talking to a brick wall. Hadn't she and Ethan just been over the issue of Theresa? And they were together-again?

"Sheridan, do you mind if I use your phone? I should try to get hold of Gwen again."

"Not at all. Why don't you use the one in the kitchen? It will give you some privacy," Sheridan suggested. "Plus, it will give Theresa and me a chance to catch up."

Ethan hesitated. He knew the strained tone of Sheridan's voice all too well. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to leave Theresa alone to face his aunt.

Sensing Ethan's hesitation, Theresa attempted to reassure him. "Go ahead. We'll be fine."

As soon as Ethan left the room, Sheridan turned to her sister-in-law. "This has got to stop."

"What do you mean?" Theresa asked.

"I mean that you made a promise to me, Theresa, and I intend to hold you to it. When you first came back to Harmony, you promised that you would leave Ethan alone."

Theresa swallowed hard. "I've only ever sought him once. Unfortunately, the time that I did, Gwen came to Ethan's office and got the wrong idea."

Sheridan crossed her arms. "I'm not so sure that she _did_ get the wrong idea."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Theresa demanded.

"You and Ethan are playing a very dangerous game. How long will it be until someone gets hurt?"

"Sheridan, there is nothing going on between Ethan and me! He's married to Gwen, and I accept that! I want him to be happy! Besides, I've been spending time with someone that I care about. What could _possibly_ be going on between Ethan and me?"

"Theresa, I spent a long time in denial where your brother is concerned. I simply did not want to face up to my feelings for him, so I didn't. Believe me, I know what denial looks like. But denying something does not make it go away. You and Ethan can deny it all you want, but it just seems to me as though you find excuses to be around each other."

"Stop right there because it isn't true. I have not sought out Ethan with the exception of today. Nor has Ethan sought me out. Harmony is a small town; we were bound to run into each other. You make it sound as though it's some great conspiracy!"

"If it looks this bad to me, think of how it must look to Gwen. What you and Ethan are putting her through is wrong. She doesn't deserve this."

"And if she had more faith in her husband in her marriage, she wouldn't be going through _anything_," Theresa insisted.

"Look, this is getting us nowhere. Just know this: if something does happen between Ethan and you, you'll have to not only contend with Gwen, but you'll also have to contend with Luis, as well. He still hasn't forgiven Ethan because of what happened between the two of you."

Theresa put her hand over her mouth. It was her fault. She always knew it was her fault, but for Sheridan to actually say it... for her to actually point the proverbial finger...

"I'm sorry I've made your life more difficult, Sheridan. I know what it is to be caught between the two men you love most in the world. I wouldn't wish that on anybody."

"Theresa, I didn't mean..."

"Yes, you did. And that's okay. I deserved that. God knows that I've certainly caused my share of problems," Theresa said as she walked to the coat rack to retrieve her jacket. "Please tell Luis that I stopped by."

"Theresa, you don't have to rush off," Sheridan protested.

"I think it's for the best. Goodnight."

Sheridan watched helplessly as Theresa left. Sighing, she rubbed her stomach. "Well, Baby, Mommy handled that one all wrong."

A moment later Ethan returned to the living room.

"Any luck getting hold of Gwen?" Sheridan asked.

"No. I tried her at home. Frederick said that he saw her come home, and her mother was with her. But she also left again. I also tried her at her mother's house, but Rebecca was either unwilling or unable to tell me where Gwen is. I just can't imagine where she could be!"

Sheridan took Ethan's hand in her own. "Gwen's a strong woman, but she has a lot of pride, Ethan. She probably just needed a little time to clear her mind."

"Well then what has she been doing all day long? I haven't been able to find her anywhere!"

"When she wants to be found, she'll be found."

"I suppose you're right." Ethan looked around him. "Where did Theresa go?"

"She left," Sheridan replied.

Ethan had a sinking feeling. "What happened between the two of you?"

"We just talked. I reminded her of a conversation we had earlier."

"And?"

"And I have to confess that I asked her if there was something going on between the two of you."

"Sheridan!"

"Well, what did you expect me to do?"

"It's bad enough that Gwen is throwing around accusations, but you, too?"

Sheridan groaned. "I know, Ethan. I know I shouldn't have done it, but I don't want to see you get hurt. I remember how it was for you last time. And I'll admit that I don't know everything that happened between the two of you, but I remember how devastated you were."

Ethan shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it."

"That's fine. You don't have to talk about it. But just think, Ethan. Think. Nothing good can come an involvement between you and Theresa."

"People used to say that same thing about you and Luis."

"My God, Ethan! It's not the same thing. Does this mean you are considering..."

"No, but it just seems strange to me that the very behavior and attitude that you used to abhor in people is the same as you are displaying right now."

"Ethan, that's not fair," Sheridan protested.

"A lot of things aren't fair, Sheridan."

She reached out and touched his arm. "I just don't want to see you falling into the same trap as Andrew."

Ethan scoffed at the notion. "I don't think _that's_ a danger. Andrew and I are very different; he uses women. I would never use Gwen _or_ Theresa. Maybe that's the way other men in our family operate, but I'm not like them."

Sheridan nodded. "I know you're not. But I just worry about you, Ethan. I want you to be happy, and you just don't seem very happy right now."

Ethan hugged Sheridan tenderly. "I'm fine, Sheridan. I promise." He looked at her and tweaked her nose, something they had often done to each other as children. "If you're going to worry about anyone, I'd be worrying about Andrew's girlfriend. Do you think she has any idea of what she's gotten herself into?"

"What is this about Andrew having a girlfriend?" Sheridan asked. "I haven't heard anything about it."

"Apparently he's met someone with whom he claims to be quite taken. It's just so hard to believe that he's being completely sincere, considering his motto in life is 'Get her, get her.'"

Sheridan laughed. "You are terrible!"

"Well, it's true. Andrew shows a complete disregard for women in general. For him, it's a different woman every night...at least it had been until recently. I guess it's just hard for me to believe that his basic nature has changed. We're supposed to meet her this Saturday night at a family dinner at the Seascape. I'm hoping that if we're in public, we'll be on our best behavior. You know how our family dinners can get."

"Do I ever! That's a pretty amazing step for your brother. Bringing a woman to dinner to meet the family? What's her name?"

Ethan frowned. "This sounds ridiculous, but I don't know. Andrew never mentioned it."

"That's odd. I wonder why?"

"Well, it was probably because he was too busy bragging about his bedroom escapades."

"Now that's the Andrew Crane that I know!" Sheridan laughed.

"You know, Sheridan, we could make this dinner even more interesting if you and Luis were to come," Ethan teased.

"Luis at the dinner table with my family? I don't think so," Sheridan replied wryly. "The last thing you need is a Lopez-Fitzgerald showing up for dinner."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "I suppose you're right. Look, I need to go. I need to try again to find Gwen and make things right with her."

"Alright. Will I see you soon?"

"You can count on it," Ethan promised. "Take care of yourself-and this little one."

Sheridan rubbed her stomach. "Always. Goodnight, Ethan. And good luck with finding Gwen."

* * *

Theresa frowned as she felt a drop of water fall on her nose. Looking at the sky, she could see that the moon was quickly disappearing behind ominous clouds. As soon as she'd returned home, she changed clothes and decided to go for a run. She usually didn't go running at night, but she desperately needed to clear her head. But Mother Nature simply was not cooperating with her plans.

Her conversation with Ethan still hung in her mind. It had been so playful at first; reminiscing about all the accident she had caused because of her nervousness. It was so nice to be able to laugh about it. Yet the conversation had taken a more serious turn, and she just couldn't seem to let his words go.

_"It's a wonder you ever survived Hurricane Theresa," she said grimacing._

_"Who says I have?"_

She desperately wanted to know what he meant by that. Perhaps she would have found out if she'd been given the chance.

It bothered her enormously that Sheridan insinuated that she was after Ethan. Theresa knew that she might be in denial about a lot of things-that she still had a lot of issues to work out-but that wasn't one of them. She would never strive to break up a couple's marriage!

Bigger drops began to fall and she picked up her pace, having no desire to be caught in an absolute downpour.

By the time she reached her house, she was soaked. Serendipity bristled at her attempts to smooth his fur, having no desire to be near his wet owner. Theresa couldn't blame him.

Stripping her shoes, socks, and the sweatshirt she wore, Theresa felt goosebumps as the cool air of her house hit her damp skin. Walking into the kitchen, she grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and drank a good portion of it.

Looking at the answering machine, she saw that she had two new messages. It was unusual for people to call so late at night.

Pushing play, she smiled as she heard her sister's lightly accented voice. "_Theresita, this is Paloma. Oh, it seems I missed you again! It's bright and early here in Madrid, and I was hoping that you would still be awake. I just wanted to tell you that I am so _orgullosa_...um, proud... of you. I know this line that you're sending to Milan will be _maravillosa_! I miss and love you very much. I hope to talk to you soon."_

"I miss you, too, Paloma," Theresa said softly.

She heard the machine beep and the next message start to play. Her mind was still on her sister, but when she heard the voice, she froze.

_"Theresa, this is Chuck. If you're there, pick up. Pick up! I don't have much time and I have so much to say... I love you, Theresa! Don't give up on us. I'm still here!"_ A pause followed by a silent curse_. "I've got to go. If they find me-"_ Abruptly, the message cut off.

Theresa sank to her knees.

* * *

Hearing the rain pelting the windows, Gwen awoke with a start. She glanced at the clock. _1:30_. She knew she really should go home, but at the same time, it was tempting to stay in the stranger's arms. Would Ethan really miss her?

She had her doubts about whether he would, but she also had her hopes. How she hoped that he was sitting up waiting for her! It would serve him right. It was time for Ethan to get a taste of his own medicine.


	40. Chapter 40

Disclaimer: I do not own _Passions_, make no profit with this, etc. etc.

A/N: Thanks for all the comments from the last chapter. It was interesting to read your takes on the message left on Theresa's answering machine.

* * *

**Chapter Forty:"Voices"**

_Theresa, this is Chuck. If you're there, pick up. Pick up! I don't have much time and I have so much to say… I love you, Theresa! Don't give up on us. I'm still here!…_ _I've got to go. If they find me—_

That voice. She could hear the words so clearly in her mind.

How?

Theresa shivered as she hugged her knees to her chest. Tears flowed down her cheeks. How could it be? No, there was no 'how' about it. It simply _couldn't _be. This had to be someone's sick of idea of a joke. She was at his funeral. She saw the casket lowered into the ground. She had visited his grave. No, this was a sick joke; an impossible, sick joke.

Theresa felt hurt and anger rise in her.

But it sounded just like him! And the desperation in his voice…it seemed _so_ real.

Picking herself off the floor, Theresa stood and stared at the answering machine. A bright red number two shone on the surface of the machine indicating the two messages. Taking a deep breath, she pushed play once again.

_"Theresa, this is Chuck. If you're there, pick up. Pick up! I don't have much time and I have so much to say…I love you, Theresa! Don't give up on us. I'm still here!…I've got to go. If they find me-" _

And again.

_"Theresa, this is Chuck. If you're there, pick up. Pick up! I don't have much time and I have so much to say…I love you, Theresa! Don't give up on us. I'm still here!…I've got to go. If they find me-"_

"Chuck…" Theresa felt a sob escape from her throat.

It had to be a joke. But what if it wasn't? What is he was out there somewhere in trouble? What if this was the only chance he would have to reach out to her? What if he was depending on her?

Hurriedly, she jumped up and quickly stepped back into her soaking wet tennis shoes. Running to the closet, she pulled out the first jacket she could find, a rather nicely lined wool jacket, and put it on over her sports bra. Within a few seconds, she was out the door.

Blindly, she ran. Down the beach and to the police precinct. Luis was there, and he would know what to do. He _had_ to know what to do.

* * *

Coming out of the police station, Ethan groaned as he pulled his trenchcoat around himself and extended his umbrella to deflect the rain. No news of Gwen. Of course, sometimes no news was good news. He'd gone to the hospital and to the police station. Obviously, wherever she was, she was safe. But where could she be?

He sighed. She was probably at her parents' house. Though he'd called several times and even visited there once, he hadn't seen her. But if she was there and didn't want to be found, she wouldn't be. He knew Gwen well enough to realize that.

Rounding the corner, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye briefly before he felt the collision. Steadying the other person in his arms, he looked down and was surprised to see Theresa looking up at him.

"I-I'm sorry, Ethan. I have to go!" Theresa replied, her voice quivering.

Her hair was plastered to her face by the rain, and looking down at her attire, he was astonished to find that she was wearing running shorts, running shoes without any socks, and a wool jacket.

Worry washed over him. Theresa always had an impeccable appearance. "Wait, Theresa. Don't go," he said moving his umbrella to cover her.

"I have to," she replied backing away from him. "I have to find Luis!"

"Is it Sheridan? Is she having the baby?" Ethan asked.

"No, nothing like that!" she said hurriedly. "I just have to see Luis right _now_!"

Ethan shook his head. "I'm sorry, Theresa. I was just in the police station, and Luis isn't there. I was told that he is out on assignment."

"No!" she wailed. "This can't wait!"

Gingerly, Ethan wiped the hair from Theresa's face. "Theresa, are you alright? Did something happen to you?"

"I can't talk, Ethan. I have to find Luis!"

All manner of terrible possibilities filled Ethan's mind. What if she'd been attacked? God help anyone who would hurt Theresa! He would personally track down anyone who laid a hand on her and make that person pay dearly.

"Look at me, Theresa!" Ethan ordered. "Did something happen to you? Did someone hurt you?"

Theresa grasped onto Ethan's arms. Between laughter and tears, she exclaimed, "I think he's alive, Ethan!"

Confusion mounted Ethan's features. "Who, Theresa? What are you talking about?"

"Chuck! I think he's alive!" she announced.

Ethan felt his heart sink as he saw the hope shining in Theresa's eyes. He wasn't sure what brought on her sudden conviction that Chuck was alive, but he was deeply concerned. Chuck had been dead for over a year and a half. He hated to know that she would only be disappointed.

"Resa, why don't you let me take you home," Ethan said, trying not to betray the worry he felt.

"No, Ethan. Didn't you hear what I said?" Theresa asked shaking her head.

Ethan touched her face and rested his hand at the nape of her neck. "I heard." He took a deep breath. "Theresa, it's been a long day. It's very late…"

"Then go home and get some rest, Ethan, but I know what I heard!"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"When I got home from running tonight, there were two messages on my machine. One was from Paloma and the other was from Chuck. Ethan, I listened to it over and over! It _was_ him! I would know his voice anywhere! He told me that he still loved me and not to give up on him. I- I think he was in trouble. He said that he had to go or 'they' would find him. That's why I have to find Luis! He will know what to do!"

Ethan grabbed onto Theresa's hand. "The first thing that Luis would do is take you home, Resa. And that's what I'm going to do."

"But Ethan-"

"No 'buts,' Theresa," he said as he removed his trenchcoat and peeled the wool coat from her. Gingerly, he wrapped his coat around her before leading her to his car.

As he closed the door behind her, Theresa's words began to sink in. She received a message on her answering machine? The voice of Chuck? Could it be possible?

No. There had to be an explanation.

* * *

Theresa's hands shook as she opened the door to her house. She'd been in such a hurry, she'd neglected to lock it. She was typically so careful about such things, but it certainly had not been a typical night.

She turned and looked at Ethan. "I'm right about this, Ethan. I know I am."

Reassuringly, he put his hand on her back and felt the dampness of her skin seep through the coat she now wore. "Let's just get you warmed up," he replied noncommittally.

"First, I need you to hear this message. I'm right about this. I know I am," she repeated.

Theresa hurriedly walked into the kitchen and Ethan followed. Yet she froze when she saw the indicator light on the answering machine. "I-I don't understand," she said softly.

Ethan peered over her shoulder and saw that only one message was indicated.

Pushing the play button, she heard her sister's voice. "_Theresita, this is Paloma. Oh, it seems I missed you again! It's bright and early here in Madrid, and I was hoping that you would still be awake. I just wanted to tell you that I am so _orgullosa_…um, proud… of you. I know this line that you're sending to Milan will be _maravillosa_! I miss and love you very much. I hope to talk to you soon."_

The answering machine's computerized voice piped in, _"End of final message."_

"No!" she cried out, fiercely grabbing the small machine from the top of her counter. Shaking it, she willed it with every ounce of her being to make the other message appear.

Gently, Ethan took the answering machine from her and set it down on the counter once again.

"No, Ethan! It was here!" she cried out frantically clinging to his coat. "I know what I saw, and I know what I heard!"

He smoothed her wet hair. "First things first. Take a deep breath. We'll get to the bottom of this, Resa."

"Ethan, it was Chuck's voice. I know what he sounds like…every inflection….every nuance. I don't know why it isn't here anymore, but it was!"

Ethan nodded and picked up the phone.

"What are you doing?" Theresa asked.

"Calling back whomever it was that called you," he replied. He pressed *69 on the telephone keypad before turning the speakerphone on.

Hearing the phone line on the other end ring, Theresa audibly drew in a breath. This could be the decisive moment. The thought of who could be on the end of the line was alternately exhilarating and terrifying.

The other end picked up, _"Digame."_

It was a woman's voice-her sister's voice.

Theresa closed her eyes, trying to force the stinging within them to go away. "Paloma, it's-it's Theresa."

_"Theresita! Esta despierta! I can't believe you're still awake. You always did keep strange hours."_

"Not so much anymore, Paloma. I-I can't talk right now," she said turning away and pulling Ethan's coat more tightly around her.

_"But you just got on!"_ Paloma protested.

Theresa opened her mouth to speak, but she simply did not have the words.

Seeing Theresa's difficulty, he took her hand and squeezed it. "Paloma, this is Ethan Crane. Theresa isn't feeling like herself right now. She'll call you back later," he said.

_"¡Valgame Dios! Ethan Crane?"_

"Yes. Paloma, have you called Theresa's house since you left a message on the machine?"

_"No. Why?"_

"Just curious. Goodbye, Paloma." His voice was firm, indicating that he was in no mood to answer questions.

_"I understand. Feel better, Theresita."_

"Bye, Paloma."

Ethan turned off the phone.

Numbly, Theresa walked away from him and back into the living room. Walking to an end table, she picked up a framed photo of Chuck and herself. Ethan followed her.

She held out the photo and showed him. "This was our engagement photo." Lightly, she traced Chuck's smile.

"I remember seeing it in the newspaper," Ethan replied quietly. It seemed like so long ago. Had it only really been a year and a half ago when he sat down to eat breakfast and Gwen gleefully brought the paper to him?

"We were so happy that day. Our future as husband and wife was ahead of us. The future seemed so bright and held so many promises. You know, he used to always tell me that his heart beat only for me." She returned the photo to the table. "Logically speaking, I know I should let this go, Ethan. But I did receive a call tonight, and it was Chuck. How can I let that go?"

"Theresa, there has to be some explanation, but if you say you received a message, I believe you."

Without thinking of the consequences, she hugged him. As she felt his arms wrap around her body, she remembered how safe she'd always felt in his embrace. The tension escaped her body and for a brief instant she felt contentment in the familiarity they shared.

"Thank you, Ethan."

Ethan swallowed hard.

Five years…it had been five years since he'd held her in his arms like this. Five years since he'd dared to even hope to be close to her again. And now it was a reality; not just a beautiful dream from which he risked awakening, but a reality. A reality that should not be. Feelings he had that should not be.

He needed some distance from her. Otherwise, he was in danger of letting his treacherous feelings get the better of him. Ethan was determined that he would not take advantage of her or of their closeness. She needed him as her friend and nothing else.

Forcing distance between them, Ethan reminded her, "But that still doesn't explain what happened to the message or why the caller return dialed Paloma's number and not the number of the last person to call. Nor does it tell us whether it was really Chuck."

"I don't have the answer to that. Maybe I accidentally pushed the erase button on the machine. I can't believe I would do something like that, but I just don't know. I was in such a hurry…. All I do know is that there was a message, and it was from Chuck!"

"Let me play the devil's advocate for a minute."

"Don't go into lawyer mode on me, Ethan! Don't try to convince me that I'm wrong."

"Theresa…."

"Ethan, _please_. You told me that you believed me. Just hold off on this for me. _Please_." Her brown eyes implored him. He'd seen that look only once before, promptly before he'd told her that he never wanted to see her again. He wasn't about to turn his back on her again.

He sighed. "All right, Resa."

"Where do I go from here?" she asked softly as she turned away from him.

"You aren't alone," he replied quietly. "I'm not going to leave you to deal with this by yourself."

"Ethan, I can't ask you to…."

"You didn't," he reminded her. "I seem to remember a few years ago that I was in need of a friend. When I found out about my mother's past with Sam Bennett, you wouldn't leave my side. You made so much of the pain and bitterness go away."

"But Gwen will be so upset."

Theresa still remembered all too well the pain she saw on the face of Ethan's wife earlier at his office. As much as Theresa had come to dislike her, particularly after the numerous threats and snide remarks that Gwen made, she still never wanted to hurt her or cause problems within their marriage. She had to admit that it wasn't so much for Gwen's benefit as it was for Ethan's. He deserved a life without turmoil and heartache.

Ethan sighed, not wanting to think about his wife's reaction to what he was doing. If she ever allowed herself to be found, Ethan was fairly certain that she would be quite upset with him…even more so than she already was. He hated the thought of causing Gwen further pain, but Theresa was in such a state of agitation. There was no way that he would leave her alone like that.

"Just trust that I know what I'm doing," he replied. "I'm going upstairs to draw a bath for you. You need to get warmed up."

She nodded, no longer having the energy to argue with him. Ethan Crane was a man used to getting his way, and it just wasn't worth fighting over.

He walked up the stairs, alternately feeling strange and at home. Theresa hadn't been a part of his life for five years. Yet looking around him, he could see so many little touches that were indescribably _Theresa_. Walking into her bedroom, he saw a pink, fluffy stuffed pig on her stylish comforter. For anyone else, it would have seemed out of place, but it didn't surprise Ethan that Theresa would have such a novelty there.

Theresa always did have a soft spot for stuffed animals. Ethan remembered her glee when he won a teddy bear for her at the arcade. Did she still have it? Quickly, he dismissed the thought as foolish.

He noticed that the bedroom had a skylight and the bed was positioned underneath it…perfect for stargazing.

The dreamer in her wasn't completely gone.

Closing his eyes briefly, he fought back the old feelings that were threatening to resurface. The last thing either of them needed was for him to be selfish. She already had so many things to deal with. And Ethan was not about to do anything to give credence to the popular adages about Crane men.

Walking into the bathroom, he knelt at the large, whirlpool tub and turned on the water. Allowing it a moment to heat up, he plugged the drain, poured bath crystals into the water, and let the tub fill. He set out towels for her, as well as her nightgown and robe before returning downstairs.

The look in her eyes caused him to draw in his breath. She looked as though she were desperately trying to hold herself together. Her dark eyes were brimming with tears that refused to be shed. Her posture was stiff, trying to force control to return to her.

"The bath water is ready," he said.

"Thank you," she said, managing a quivering smile. She started up the stairs, but turned around and came back down. Walking to where he stood near the window, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him softly on the cheek.

"I will never forget this, Ethan."


	41. Chapter 41

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. :)

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

**Chapter Forty-One: The Nature of the Beast**

Peeling the wet clothes from her body, Theresa stepped into the bubble-filled water. Letting it wash over her body, she closed her stinging eyes.

Sighing loudly, she tried to fight back the self-pity that was in danger of emerging. It was a losing battle.

What was happening?

Everything that she knew to be true in her world was slowly but surely being stripped away.

_Not everything_, she reminded herself. Ethan had always been one true thing in her life, and for him to be there, to support her knowing that there would be consequences….it simply astonished her.

_Is it possible to feel so many things simultaneously?_ she wondered as tears made their way down her cheeks.

She felt as though she was going in ten different directions at once. Being around Ethan was complicated. More than complicated, actually, but she didn't have a word for it. Yet it was also comforting.

And dangerous.

And exciting.

And natural.

And now with the phone call that came…was it possible that Chuck was still out there somewhere? The thought of being with Chuck again filled her with a hope that she hadn't felt in so long.

But how could it be?

How could it have been Chuck that called her?

She'd been at his funeral and stood in front of the massive mahogany casket. She'd watched in disbelief as the coffin was lowered into the ground, and she saw the grief in Mrs. Wilson's eyes. She'd felt that same grief. She _still_ felt that same grief.

Her mind told her that it was impossible for Chuck to have called, but her heart….well, her heart wasn't feeling very cooperative.

"You weren't supposed to leave," Theresa whispered softly. "But I'm going to have to deal with the hand I'm dealt. God, if only I _knew_ what hand I've been dealt!"

She stepped from the tub and wrapped a towel around herself before releasing the plug to allow the water to drain. Fear and uncertainty were taking a hold of her again. She knew it was happening, but it was increasingly difficult to do anything to combat those feelings.

Walking to the vanity, she picked up the clothes Ethan had set out. Amidst all the uncertainties, one thing that she did know was that she was very fortunate to have Ethan with her there tonight. She wasn't certain what she would have done had he not been there. He truly was an amazing man.

Looking up at the mirror, she was startled to see the dark circles under her eyes, an outward sign of the restlessness she felt. Yet something else caught her eye. It was a post-it note placed on the mirror. No words were written; rather it was a rudimentary drawing of a flower. She recognized it as Ethan's handiwork.

It had been so long since she'd seen such a thing, but she hadn't forgotten. In fact, she kept the first one she ever saw. Still had it in a box with other memorabilia, as far as she knew.

She smiled despite the tumult of emotions she was feeling.

Ethan Crane was many things, but an artist he was not.

_Theresa stretched lazily as she heard the door to the guest bedroom of the Crane Cabin open. She knew breakfast was on its way before she even opened her eyes. The smell of waffles, bacon, and coffee filled the air. Wearily opening her eyes, she was greeted with the sight of Ethan still in his pajama pants carrying a tray of food. _

_She could hardly believe it. Ethan had one of the worst days of his life just the day before; finding out the truth about his mother and Chief Bennett. But there he was, holding a tray of food that he had prepared for her. _

_"Mmmm. Breakfast in bed?" she asked, her voice still rough from her slumber. "How lucky am I?"_

_"Well, since you asked…" he replied with a glint of amusement in his eye. _

_She picked up a pillow intending to throw it at him, but thought better of it. He was, after all, carrying her breakfast. _

_Watching her set down the pillow, he said, "Good choice."_

_Sitting up, she smoothed the pajama top she wore; the top which corresponded to his pajama pants. Unexpectedly deciding to stay the night at the cabin had led to some indecision about what she would sleep in. She told him immediately that she would not wear one of Gwen's nightgowns. He agreed with her, and the solution they found was quite equitable. She might not want to wear Gwen's sleepwear, but she didn't mind wearing Ethan's. In fact, it secretly thrilled her to sleep in part of his pajamas. _

_Looking at him, she felt her heart begin to quicken. He looked so handsome, but he was unaware of it. His hair was rumpled from where he had slept. His grin was infectious and made her want to laugh. And it certainly didn't bother her any that she was getting a nice view of his muscular arms and chest. _

_Noticing her stare, he asked, "Does breakfast look that good?"_

_Before she realized it, the words escaped from her mouth, "It wasn't breakfast that I was looking at."_

_Ethan chuckled and Theresa felt her face grow hot. She couldn't believe that she'd actually said that! _

_Ethan walked to the bed and sat down next her, setting the tray on her lap. She soon saw that in addition to the waffles and bacon, Ethan also had strawberries and cream. She hadn't realized just how hungry she was until she saw just how good everything looked._

_"I can't believe you made all of this."_

_"Well, I did have a good teacher. All of those nights that we've spent in your kitchen have really paid off."_

_"Well, I couldn't have you being completely helpless, now could I?" she teased. "I don't see how you ever survived living on your own when you were in college and law school without knowing the basics."_

_"I have three words for you. Macaroni and cheese."_

_"I am pleased to say that you've moved beyond macaroni and cheese. Ethan, this looks and smells amazing! I still can't believe you went to all of this trouble for me!"_

_"It's no trouble to do things for the people that I love, Resa," he said quietly. He shook his head and mused, "I can't believe it took me so long to admit that. I've been such a fool, ignoring what's been in front of me all along."_

_"But we know now, and that's what counts. No regrets, Ethan."_

_He nodded and smiled at her. "No regrets," he agreed. _

_Ethan took a strawberry and dipped it in the cream. Gently, he lifted it to Theresa's lips. She bit into the fruit, letting its sweetness wash over her. Her eyes never left his._

_She felt her heart quicken once again. There was something so intimate about being fed breakfast in bed by the man she loved. _

_Could there have been a more perfect day?_

_She giggled when she realized that she had cream on her chin. She reached for a cloth napkin, but he stopped her and set aside the tray._

_"Allow me," he said with a grin._

_Stroking her face, he brought her closer to him. Leaning down, he kissed the cream from her chin before moving up to her lips. It was a kiss that he intended to be playful, but it turned into something else entirely. The electricity that passed between them was undeniable. _

_As his lips touched hers, she felt a sigh of contentment escape from her. Their kisses might be new, but she knew that she would never grow immune to the feelings that those kisses evoked._

_Theresa parted her lips slightly, allowing him the access he wanted so desperately. Taking full possession of her mouth, he groaned in gratification. His tongue sparred with hers, filling him with an aching need. Tasting her, touching her, was so intoxicating he knew he was in danger of losing himself in their kisses. _

_Theresa felt her head spinning. Ethan made her feel sensations that she never knew existed. He filled her with this indescribable _need_. For what, she wasn't sure. All she knew was that only Ethan could complete her._

_Gently, she raked her fingernails down his bare back, delighting in how it felt to touch his warm skin. _

_He moaned as she touched him, deepening their kiss. God how he wanted her so badly! He throbbed with desire…with the desire to make her his in every way. _

_"Theresa," he murmured huskily between kisses._

_"Yes, Ethan?" _

_Her voice sounded so small and so young. He looked down into her eyes, dewy with innocence. _

_She deserved better than this._

_"We—we need to stop," he told her._

_"But I like kissing you," she said nuzzling his neck._

_He swallowed hard, realizing that she had no idea of what she was doing to him. "Resa, you're making me want more than I should," he explained gently._

_"Oh." _

_Her eyes grew wide as he took a pillow and placed it over his lap._

_"Oh!" she repeated._

_He stood, still holding the pillow. "I think I'm going to take a shower while you finish breakfast." _A cold shower_, he added to himself._

_Theresa threw the covers back, and as she swung her legs over the side of the bed, he could not help but notice how shapely they were. She stood, the too-large pajama top reaching mid-thigh. "Ethan, wait."_

_"That's probably not a good idea," he warned before turning and leaving. _

_A few minutes later as she sat eating her waffles, she could hear the shower running from the bathroom that adjoined the bedroom where he had slept. She smiled to herself as she let her thoughts drift to what he must look like as he took his shower. She'd never seen a naked man before, but she'd heard about the birds and the bees so she had a basic understanding of what happened between a man and a woman. Plus, she'd seen movies at the theatre. _

_Sighing, she looked down at the tray to pick up her coffee cup. Something caught her eye…something that she hadn't noticed before. It was small piece of paper. A post-it note, actually. On it was drawn a flower. She smiled knowing that Ethan had done it. She took it from the tray and held it to her heart. _

_By the time Ethan returned from taking his shower, she had dressed and had run a brush through her long hair before pulling it back into a ponytail. After returning the dishes to the kitchen, she went into the living room, gazing at the various photos on display. Hearing his approach, she turned to look at him. His hair was still damp, and Theresa once again marveled at his appearance. Each time she saw him, he grew more handsome._

_Smiling, she held up the small drawing. _

_Immediately, embarrassment shone on his face. "It was silly, I know," he explained. "I didn't have any real flowers here, but I wanted you to have a flower, so I drew it. I'll just throw it away," he said reaching out to take it from her._

_She jerked her hand back. "Are you kidding?" she asked. "I think it's the sweetest thing! You are always so thoughtful. That's just one of the reasons why I love you."_

_He looked at her with a twinkle in his eye. "How many reasons are there?"_

_"Oh, oodles and oodles. But if I told you all of them, you might start to get conceited on me, and I simply couldn't have _that_," she teased._

_Sitting on the sofa, he looked out the window wistfully. "Once upon a time I would be able to chalk up arrogance as a Crane trait. Not anymore."_

_She sat next to him and took his hand knowing the pain within him was still raw. "You are so much more than your last name, Ethan."_

_"Logically, I know that. But now—I just feel as though a piece of myself is missing. A piece of my identity is gone."_

_She leaned against him, placing her head on his shoulder. "I don't have any easy answers for you, Ethan. I don't have anything to take the pain away. I wish I did. All I can tell you is this: I love you. _You_. _Ethan_. Not your last name. I love Ethan, the man who makes me laugh; the man who plays silly games with me; the man who is constantly doing nice things for other people; the man who would draw me a flower on a sticky note to brighten my morning. You are so much more than you give yourself credit."_

_He closed his eyes briefly, wondering how he could be so blessed, despite everything. He turned and looked at her. He could see the sheer adoration in her eyes, and he felt his heart melt. _

_"I don't know what our future will hold, but I do know that one thing will remain constant. I will always love you, Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald._

* * *

"Yes, I know what time it is," Ethan replied crossly. "But you aren't paid to remind me of the time. Crane Industries owns a rather sizable percentage of Northeast Telecom, so when I say jump, you say…."

_"How high." _

"Exactly. Now pull those phone records immediately. I want to know who has placed calls into this number."

_"But Mr. Crane, you have to understand that with our computer glitches…"_

"No, excuses. Get it done, and get it done now!" With that, Ethan hung up the phone.

"Throwing your weight around?" Theresa asked.

Ethan spun around, not realizing she was there. As he looked at her, he involuntarily drew in a deep breath. She was a vision, her long, dark hair about her shoulders; her gown long and flowing; her bare feet walking so softly.

But his vision had a disappointed look on her face.

"I didn't see you come in."

Theresa looked down at her bare feet. "No, I guess you didn't," she sighed. She used to blindly tell herself that he wasn't like the others in his family, but that did not negate the fact that he was raised as a Crane. He certainly had it within himself to be ruthless. The small glimpses she'd seen of that fact scared her.

He rubbed his eyes, weary and cranky. "Look, Theresa, sometimes it pays to apply a little pressure. And if it gets us what we want more quickly, all the better."

"So the ends justify the means." She shook her head. "Was I so wrong about you, Ethan? You _are_ a Crane, through and through."

"How could I be anything but? The Cranes are my family." He knew he sounded defensive, but he couldn't help himself. She didn't know what it was to be a fake regardless of where he went. Even after discovering his true parentage, he knew he would never be a Bennett. But his identity still gnawed at him.

Quietly and earnestly, she said, "I used to always think you were different. That the darkness that seeped into Alistair and Julian couldn't touch you."

"We all have a darkness within us, Theresa."

"Please, Ethan. Don't be—" she hesitated.

"Don't be what?"

"Don't be like _them_. You are so much better than that."

"Am I? How can you say that, Theresa? After what I did to you…"

Confusion filled Theresa's features. "What are you talking about? What did you do to me?"

"I turned my back on you. I—I fed you to the wolves."

Theresa gasped when she saw the pained look on his features. He truly believed that he had done something so terrible to her! Instinctively, she walked to him and touched his face, as though by touching him she could make all of the hurt disappear.

"You did no such thing!" she said fiercely. "Everything that happened to me was my own doing. I lied to you. I lied to my family. You did nothing wrong by being upset with me. I deserved it!"

He looked down into her dark eyes, the eyes that had haunted his dreams for the last five years. "I drove you away, Resa. I made it too hard for you to…to be here."

"I was so young, Ethan, and so stupid!" she smiled bitterly thinking of the girl she once was. "I thought that I could justify my actions because 'Fate' was on my side. But you helped me to grow up and stand on my own. Remember: 'That which does not kill us makes us stronger.' Look, I'm a survivor. Yes, it hurt. But it was a result of my own foolishness; not a result of any terrible thing you did to me."

He looked at her and she could tell that he still was not convinced. "Come sit down, and I'll tell you about New York."

She led him to the sofa and they sat. Bringing her legs up to the couch, she tucked them under herself. "Ever since I was a little girl, I loved beautiful things. I suppose most little girls do. And I enjoyed making what others would consider to be 'beautiful' things. I remember being in the third grade and how Mrs. Harkins praised a drawing of mine. I think I must've beamed for the rest of the day. It made me feel very special.

"I didn't really think that much about it later, though. I had more important things to concentrate on like Barbie dolls. Whitney would come over and play, but I only had one doll. And do you know how many different types of Barbies are out there?" She looked at him and laughed. "I guess not."

"You'd be surprised. Sheridan could be quite convincing. I would play Barbies with her if she would play fort with me."

Theresa smiled at the thought. "Then you do know. I mean, there's Doctor Barbie, Astronaut Barbie, Princess Barbie, Corporate Barbie, Picnic Barbie. The list goes on and on. We didn't have the money for lots of Barbies, so I would make clothes for the one doll that I did have.

"As I grew older, I started making clothes for myself. Designing was fun, it was something that I was good at, and when all was said and done, I had something to show for my work. From the time I was very young I wanted to go to New York and be a designer. It was always a dream. About five and a half years ago, I got just the push I needed.

"I'd never really been to a big city before to stay. Sure, I remember Luis taking me to Boston once as a treat and I remember you taking me to San Diego to see Chris Isaak perform, but other than that….

"Let's just say that I wasn't entirely prepared for what I found. I was so used to being surrounded by family and friends here in Harmony. They'd always been my safety net. I didn't have that anymore. It was mindblowingly frightening and unbelievably exciting at the same time. The first time I saw a group of people with multi-colored hair, I knew I wasn't in Harmony anymore."

"And so Dorothy found herself in Oz," he said.

She nodded. "Sink or swim, I was determined to dive in. When I arrived at the campus, I was horrified to discover that the housing verification that I sent in was never received by the housing authorities. I had expected to stay in the dormitory, but I was informed that there were no positions available."

"Did you tell Luis or your mother?"

"Good heavens, no! I couldn't face them. I knew that whatever I did, it would have to be on my own. I was horribly homesick, but I think anyone who goes away to school for the first time experiences that sensation. Living in a large city is nothing like living in a small town. It's not as easy to meet people, and I was very lonely at first, but I did end up meeting some very wonderful people soon after I arrived. I was also very lucky."

He looked at her dubiously, wondering how she could consider herself lucky after losing her housing.

"You should know by now that I've always been lucky. I'm like a cat. I land on my feet. One of my professors and his wife had a room for rent in the basement of their house. It wasn't very big, and it certainly wasn't very cheerful, but I had a roof over my head, and that's what mattered.

"Of course, the next order of business was to find some work. My scholarship paid for school expenses, such as tuition and books, but not for living expenses. I'd managed to save some money from the job I had with your mother. It was being depleted quickly, though. I took some odd jobs—and one of those jobs led to meeting Chuck again."

Ethan's mind was racing, trying to imagine his bright, cheerful Theresa living in a dreary basement, struggling to make ends meet.

He tried not to betray the tumult he was feeling. As nonchalantly as he could he responded. "Really? What job was that?"

She hesitated. "It sounds ridiculous to even say it."

"Just tell me," he prodded.

She groaned. "If you say anything to Luis about this, I will never forgive you. He has no idea, and I want to keep it that way."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Now you really have me curious."

"All right. I was a cigarette girl at a jazz club. This place was a throwback to the 'Golden Era of America' and looked like something out of an old movie."

"Was it the Blue Note?"

"You've heard of it?" she asked.

"Yes, I've actually been once."

"That doesn't surprise me. It caters to the high tier of society. I wore one of those short dresses with matching bloomers and hat, and I carried around a tray of cigarettes." She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "And I even carried around some contraband: Cuban cigars."

Ethan chuckled. "Of all the things I would have imagined you doing, that's not one of them."

"Well, it wasn't exactly what I saw myself doing, either. Once night, the singer that was scheduled to perform came down with a nasty stomach virus. The manger of the club had apparently heard me humming and asked if I could go on in her place. Let's just say that he was pretty desperate.

"After a severe case of the jitters, I did agree to go on. I never thought of myself as much of a performer, but I did okay."

"Theresa, you have an amazing voice. I'm sure you did a _wonderful_ job."

"I don't know about that, but the manager seemed to think that I did alright. From that point on, I had a standing gig three nights a week. Singing paid better than distributing cigarettes. I was able to get a real apartment with a kitchen and everything. Plus, I didn't have to deal with dirty old men trying to pinch my bottom anymore.

"One night when I was done with my last set, I was approached by a young man; a young man that I knew, actually."

"Chuck."

She nodded and smiled. "Yeah. Chuck. He was in town playing in a tennis tournament, and he just happened to come to the Blue Note. He asked me out for coffee."

"And you said yes."

She laughed. "Actually, I said no. I made a lame excuse about how the caffeine would keep me up, and I would never make it to class the next morning. Then he reminded me that there was such a thing as _decaffeinated_ coffee. He was so persistent!"

"And his persistence paid off."

"Yeah. I suppose it did. At first, I wasn't really sure about us. But he won me over, and he even managed to do the impossible. He won Luis over."

"That _is _quite a feat," Ethan agreed thinking of his own stormy relationship with Theresa's brother.

She looked at him and found his expression difficult to read. "What are you thinking, Ethan?" she asked.

He hesitated. "Theresa, it's as if you have this whole other life that I know nothing about."

"Well, you're finding out about it now. I'm sure that there are things in your life that have changed drastically since those days when we spent a lot of time together. You know, things can't stay the same forever. That's the nature of the beast."

She leaned her head against the back of the sofa, thinking of Chuck. If things could be the same, he might still be with her.

_"Are you glad you let me talk you into this?" Chuck asked with a grin as they walked out of the theatre and down Broadway._

_"Actually, I am. I've only ever seen a high school production of 'Cats.' It's so different on Broadway!" _

_Chuck laughed when he saw the light in her eyes. "I guess you could say that. I'm trying to imagine a high school production. You didn't happen to be in that did you? Wearing a little kitty costume, perhaps?"_

_"Well, meow to you!" Theresa replied laughing. "You know, Mr. Wilson, kitties have claws."_

_"All the better for a little back scratching," he said as he circled her waist._

_"Sounds purrrrfect," she cooed. "Actually, I didn't wear the 'kitty' costumes, but I did help design them. Design has always been my forte-not performance."_

_"I think I would have to disagree with you there, Theresa. You're quite capable of giving a good performance," he replied. The first time he'd met her, they'd given quite a performance together. And when they met again, she was performing; singing to be more specific. He would never forget the haunted look in her eyes as she was lost in the music, oblivious to her surroundings. _

_Theresa wrinkled her nose. "I'm sure some of the people in Harmony would agree with you. I've disappointed so many of them. I will never forget the look on Mama's face. She warned me over and over that the choices that I was making would only lead to disaster. I just wouldn't listen. And Luis-God, Chuck, he was so hurt. He trusted in me; gave so much up for me. I completely blindsided him. And-"_

_Chuck cut her off, not wanting to hear the name he knew she was about to utter. "When are you going to let that go?" he asked taking her hand._

_"When I can go back with my head held high. If they're talking about me behind my back, I want them to at least have one good thing to say. That I'm determined or that I'm accomplished. Not that-" she sighed and shook her head. "-Not that I'm a gold-digger."_

_"You know who you are, Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. I know who you are. Why does it matter what everyone else thinks?" he asked._

_"It just does, Chuck."_

_"But why?" he persisted._

_"All a girl of my background has is her reputation. It bothers me to think that so many people are convinced that I was purposely trying to destroy lives. Someday, I will go back. I _will_ make up for those mistakes."_

_"I know you will. And just so that _you_ know, when I was talking about you as a performer, I wasn't talking about what happened in Harmony. I was thinking of something a little closer to home."_

_"And what might that be?"_

_"The night I saw you again at the club."_

_Theresa shuddered. "It's one thing to sing with a group of friends as a joke, but another thing entirely to get up in front of all those people."_

_"You handled yourself like a real pro, Lo-Fitz. When I saw you on that stage, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me."_

_"I'm surprised you remembered me. It had been…what? Two years?"_

_"How could I ever forget you?"_

_"Well, we did meet under unusual circumstances," she conceded._

_"It wasn't because of the circumstances. I just never could forget _you._ When I met you the first time, I knew you were special. And then when I saw you onstage, I was determined not to let you go so easily."_

_She reached up and touched his face. "I'm glad you didn't."_

_"Me too, my dear. Me too. By the way, I have a surprise for you," he said._

_"A surprise?" she asked, her voice full of glee. "I love surprises! What is it?"_

_"I can't tell you. I'll have to show you."_

_"Well, since you know that I love surprises, you also know how impatient I can be!"_

_"Not one of your better virtues," he teased._

_She grabbed his sides and tickled him. "Oh, you are in danger!"_

_"I think I've passed the point of being in danger, Love," he said grabbing her and pulling her close. As his lips met hers, the world seemed to melt around them. They were no longer in the middle of a bustling city. They were no longer surrounded by other pedestrians anxious to reach their destinations. _

_They were only two people left in the world._

_After Chuck unlocked the door of his apartment, he stepped aside and let Theresa walk in. She smiled at the familiar surroundings, happy to be with him. Happy in the knowledge that he loved her-proverbial warts and all._

_"Go ahead and have a seat," he instructed her._

_"Okay," she agreed, hoping to expedite the presentation of the surprise._

_He watched her sit down before he walked to the hall closet and pulled out a guitar case. _

_As she saw him return to the living room with his guitar, she grinned, indeed feeling quite surprised. She was much more accustomed to seeing him with a tennis racquet in his hand or a golf club. "I didn't know you played!"_

_"Well, I don't-much. I'm still working on that. But there is something that I've been working on."_

_He sat in the chair perpendicular to the couch and began strumming the guitar._

"I like the way your sparkling earrings lay,  
Against your skin, it's so brown  
And I wanna sleep with you  
In the desert tonight  
With a billion stars all around

'Cause I gotta peaceful easy feeling  
And I know you won't let me down  
'Cause I'm already standing

On the ground."

_Theresa had to fight back the tears. Chuck didn't have a musical note in his body, but he was still singing for her. _

"And I found out a long time ago  
What a woman can do to your soul  
Ah, but she can't take you anyway  
You don't already know how to go

And I gotta peaceful, easy feeling  
And I know you won't let me down  
'Cause I'm already standing

On the ground

I get this feeling I may know you  
As a lover and a friend  
But this voice keeps whispering  
In my other ear, tells me  
I may never see you again

'Cause I get a peaceful, easy feeling  
And I know you won't let me down  
'Cause I'm already standing on the ground  
'Cause I'm already standing...  
On the ground."

_As Chuck set the guitar aside, he looked sheepishly at Theresa. "It wasn't too bad, I hope."_

_Theresa leaped up from her seat on the couch and sat in his lap. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she whispered, "It was perfect. _You_ are perfect."_

_She kissed him with everything that was in her, her fingers buried in his hair. She looked down at his hands and took them in her own. Looking at the fingertips, she saw the new calluses that had formed, which signified the hours he had spent learning to play the song. Gently, she kissed each fingertip before hugging him tightly._

_He could feel her cheek against his, wet. _

_Looking at her, he wiped her tears away. "Why are you crying?"_

_"It was just so beautiful. The most beautiful thing that I've ever heard. I love you, Chuck, so very much! Promise that you'll never leave me."_

_"Not even when you're making us very late for an appointment?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye._

_"I'm serious. Promise me."_

_He traced her lips with a gentle kiss. "I promise, Love. I promise."_

"A penny for your thoughts," Ethan said, looking at Theresa who sat so close to him but seemed a million miles away.

"It'll cost you more than that," she replied wearily. "Inflation, you know."

"You can send me the bill."

She sighed. "I was thinking about Chuck. I never thought we would be apart. As silly as it sounds, I made him promise that we would always be together."

He reached out and took her hand. "It doesn't seem silly at all," he assured her. "Theresa, I hate to ask, but I've been trying to piece a few things together. Could you do something for me?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"Could you write down exactly what the message said?"

"I can do that," she agreed with a nod.

He handed her a yellow legal pad and a pen. He watched as she quickly wrote the words. When she finished, she handed the pad back to him.

"I'm going to read this aloud. I want you to make sure that everything is correct, or at least as accurate as you can remember."

"Ethan, I will never forget those words," Theresa protested.

"Just humor me," he replied.

Glancing down at the pad, he read, "'Theresa, this is Chuck. If you're there, pick up. Pick up. I don't have much time and I have so much to say. I love you, Theresa. Don't give up on us. I'm still here. I've got to go. If they find me—' Does that sound right to you?"

She nodded.

"Okay, good. Here's what we're going to do, Theresa. As you know, I have spoken to the phone company. They're doing a trace on all of the calls that this phone number has received. They should be able to give us more information. I've also contacted the technology department at Crane Industries. They are sending a representative here tomorrow to pick up your answering machine. If there is some way to extract a message that has been digitally erased, they'll find it.

"As far as the police are concerned, I haven't talked to them officially. I did try to reach Luis, but he's still on assignment. Quite honestly, Theresa, there's not a lot they can do anyway. What we have is this: a message that you say you received but that is no longer on your machine. We tried caller return and your sister answered the phone, but by your accounts, she phoned before the other call came. The physical evidence is not here right now to support an investigation."

"But Ethan, I _did _get a call!"

"I know, Theresa, and I believe you. Luis might be able to help in an unofficial capacity, but the police will not involve themselves in this officially."

"But Ethan, Chuck seemed as though he was in trouble!"

"Theresa, by all accounts, Chuck Wilson has been dead for a year and a half. If you tell the police that you received a phone call from your deceased fiancé but you have no physical evidence to back it up, they will not be able to do anything."

Theresa stood and started pacing. "This is so frustrating!" she cried out.

"I know, Resa. I know this is hard, but there are some other things I need to know," he said gently. "What can you tell me about Chuck's death?"

"Oh, God, Ethan. No. _No!_ I can't go through this. Not again!"

Soothingly, he said. "Resa, I'm so sorry that you had to go through losing Chuck. I remember thinking about you when I heard the news, and how I wished that I could take away the pain you were feeling. I still wish I could." Gently, he took her arm and led her back to the sofa. "But if we are going to find out what happened here tonight, I need to know everything that you can tell me. _Please_."

She trembled as chills permeated her body. Ethan pulled the fleece throw from the back of the couch and enveloped her in it. Pulling her close to him, he was determined not to let her go.

Finally she spoke softly. "It still doesn't seem real, Ethan. I remember that night so perfectly. It was three days before our wedding, and we were so excited. We were already planning the family we would have. I wanted him to stay with me, but he insisted that we wait until our wedding night. After all, we'd already waited up to that point. It was going to be very special." She paused. "Before he left, we kissed. I didn't want to let him go. I just didn't. I told him to call me when he got home so that I would know he was safe, but the call never came.

"The police came about two hours later. I still hadn't gone to bed because I'd heard nothing from him. I was worried but couldn't get hold of him. When they showed up, I _knew_, but I didn't want to face it. Things like that happen to other people! They told me they were sorry, but he had been involved in a head-on collision. A drunk driver was responsible. I still wouldn't believe them.

"They took me to the morgue to identify his body, but his mother was already there. She'd done the identification. They decided not to let me see him, afraid that it would upset me more. Oh, Ethan, the look on Emmaline's face was….I don't think I even have the words to describe it. I was reminded of something Grace Bennett said. No mother should live to see the death of her child. Emmaline held me so tightly, I could barely breathe.

"I went home that night, numb. I couldn't feel anything. People were descending upon me like vultures. I didn't want all of the phone calls and the expressions of condolence. I wanted my fiancé back!

"The funeral itself was small and quiet. The casket was closed. Emmaline thought it would be better for me to remember him the way that he was. I—I'd heard the coroner talking at the hospital. He said that…," her voice broke, "…that in Chuck's case, death was more merciful."

"Oh, Theresa…"

"Ethan, I never saw him! What if it wasn't Chuck at the morgue? What if he is out there somewhere? What if he needs me?"

"But wouldn't his own mother be able to identify him?" Ethan asked.

"Not if whoever was in that accident was as badly disfigured as the coroner indicated! Maybe Emmaline just _thought_ it was her son!" Tears spilled down her cheeks and sobs wracked her body. "Ethan, I don't know if I'm coming or going anymore! Nothing makes any sense!"

Stroking her hair, her held her to himself while she cried. "I promise you, Theresa. We'll make sense of this together."

Credit: "Peaceful Easy Feeling" words by Jack Tempchin


	42. Chapter 42

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Notes: Thanks so much for the reviews. I truly appreciate those of you who take the time to read and comment. It's so interesting to read your reactions to the story.

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Two: For Naught **

Theresa probably wouldn't have awoken if not for the sunshine streaming through the skylight. _How did I get here?_ she wondered as she looked around the surroundings of her bedroom. Last she remembered, she was in the living room with Ethan.

She sat up and took a deep breath. Looking out the window, she could see the waves from the ocean breaking against the shoreline. Usually, she found the sight and the sound of the ocean comforting, but this morning she could take no such comfort from it.

Everything felt so alien to her.

Glancing around her room from her plush chair to her vanity and her paintings on the wall, everything was in place. Yet _she_ felt out of place.

Tossing her covers aside, she swung her legs over the side of her bed. Serendipity was sitting on the floor next to her bed, looking up at her. Cocking his head to one side, the cat studied its owner, seeming to sense her tumultuous emotions.

"I bet you're hungry," Theresa said to her cat hoarsely. She leaned down and picked up Serendipity, holding him closely to her. "Oh, kitty, do you want to trade places? Because right now, your life is looking pretty good."

Serendipity merely purred from the attention he was receiving.

Theresa sighed. It was a pattern she had with her cat. Whenever something was troubling her, she always offered to trade places with him. Strangely enough, he'd never taken her up on her offer.

She stood and set Serendipity back on the floor. Slowly, she walked into her bathroom and brushed her teeth. She usually went running first thing each morning, but she simply did not have the energy. She felt exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Yesterday had seemed like a bad dream, from her conversation with Ethan at his office and Gwen coming in and assuming the worst to Sheridan's implication that something was indeed happening between Ethan and her. The worst, however, had been when she realized the phone message was gone. If it truly was Chuck, everything would change. But did she dare raise her hopes so high?

As she walked down the stairs, a tantalizing aroma filled her nostrils. She could not help but smile when she saw Ethan wearing her pink, frilly apron cooking breakfast and talking on the phone at the same time. The way he'd supported her despite everything amazed Theresa. She knew the last thing that he wanted or needed was to be around her, but he'd helped her anyway.

For all her brother's rants that Ethan was just as corrupt as the other Cranes, Theresa knew it couldn't be true. She just prayed that Alistair and Julian wouldn't gain any more of a hold on him. What she saw the day they were in the park with the twins and Sam Bennett approached them, as well as what she saw last night as he was on the phone, made her wonder about the changes in him. Yet she was convinced that his basic nature had not changed. He could easily have turned his back on her or even taken advantage of her if he'd chosen. But Ethan just wasn't like that.

"Thank you. I'll be in touch shortly," Theresa heard Ethan say before returning the phone to the receiver.

Noticing her arrival, Ethan managed a smile. "Good morning. How did you sleep last night?"

Theresa smoothed her hair. "I guess I've had better nights. I kept having the strangest dreams! I think I was pretty out of it. I don't even remember going to bed last night."

Ethan cleared his throat. "You fell asleep down here. I carried you up. I hope you don't mind, but I slept in the chair in your room. I didn't want you to be alone."

"No, not at all," Theresa said quietly as she felt her heart catch in her throat. Fresh tears burned her eyes, but she willed them to go away. To know that he cared enough to stay by her bedside...why did that seem to only make things harder?

"I can't thank you enough for last night, Ethan. I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't run into you. You were so unbelievably sweet, caring, considerate, and wonderful. You were my anchor. I'll never forget it."

"It's no trouble to do things for the people I-" he caught himself. Quickly, he changed the subject. "I had a new answering machine brought over this morning. Gary Livingston from the technology department at Crane Industries also came by this morning to take your old answering machine. He seemed pretty confident that any recently deleted messages could be restored. Digital technology can be recovered; it's just a matter of time. I also fed Serendipity and carried out his litter."

"You are too good to be true." Theresa sat at one of the bar stools she had situated around the kitchen's island. "I wouldn't have even known where to start. How long have you been up?"

He looked at her, but wouldn't say. "I've been up awhile."

"You must be running on empty."

"Not for much longer," he replied indicating the pancakes he was preparing.

Theresa had to admit that they looked wonderful. She still couldn't believe that Ethan Crane was in her kitchen fixing breakfast.

Then it hit.

_Oh, God. Ethan's in my kitchen fixing breakfast! What is his family going to think? What is Gwen going to think?_

"Ethan, what about work and your family?"

Theresa's tone was one of concern, and though Ethan knew that there would be hell to pay over his actions, especially from his wife, he tried to be as nonchalant as possible. The last thing Theresa needed was to have something else to worry about.

"I called in to work to let them know something has come up. I called home, too."

"And Gwen wasn't upset?" Theresa asked in amazement.

Ethan weighed his words carefully. "Actually, Gwen wasn't there. My guess is that she's been with her mother. They're very close."

Theresa covered her face and groaned. "I'm sorry, Ethan. This is all my fault! If I hadn't shown up at your office yesterday, Gwen wouldn't be upset with you."

"You couldn't have known that she would. Besides, Gwen wouldn't be upset with me if she weren't so suspicious."

Theresa thought back to her conversation with Whitney and about her own culpability. "If I were in her position, Ethan, I might feel the same as she does. She has every reason in the world to distrust me considering what I put the two of you through."

"But Theresa, this isn't about Gwen not trusting _you_. It's about Gwen not trusting _me_."

"No, Ethan. If it weren't for me, trust would not be an issue with the two of you. Whitney tried to tell me that, and I didn't want to hear it. Sheridan tried to tell me that, and I still didn't want to hear it. But let's face it, you can't blame her because when all is said and done, you don't trust me, either."

"Theresa, I-"

"Look, this is not something that I want to get into this morning. I don't have the energy. I only wish that…." Her voice trailed off.

"Wish that what?"

_Wish that you could believe in me the way I believed in you_, Theresa thought. Yet she didn't dare give that thought a voice.

"Nothing, Ethan. Nothing at all."

It still hurt when she thought of the way Ethan had looked at her that day he told her he knew about her lies and that he never wanted to see her again. She knew she didn't deserve to be treated any differently, but she had always hoped that if he ever did find out, that he would be able to forgive her.

Theresa's thoughts turned to Gwen. She couldn't stand to be around the woman, particularly after Gwen threw Chuck's death in her face. But Theresa also had a fairly good idea that Gwen's behavior stemmed from desperation over a bad situation.

_And I have to face it…Gwen has never been anything but truthful to Ethan, which is something that I can't say_, Theresa thought. _She's always been faithful! _

The phone rang, and Theresa jumped. Her heart pounding, she couldn't help but wish it was Chuck.

Quickly, she picked up the phone. "Hello?"

_"Mademoiselle Lopez-Fitzgerald? This is Gustav Moreau from Fantastique."_

"Oh, hello, Monsieur Moreau," Theresa replied.

Ethan looked over at her and could see the disappointment in her face as she began to discuss business.

* * *

Drew Winthrop Crane ran down the beach, keeping a quick, yet steady, pace. He'd expected to see Theresa running that morning, but she was nowhere in sight. Quite frankly, it had him a little worried for they'd fallen into the habit of running together.

_I hope I didn't scare her off_, he thought with frustration. _Not when I'm so close to having everything I want._

He knew he'd come on pretty strong with her the previous day. It had just surprised him that she had gone to see Ethan. And though he didn't want to admit it, it had hurt his pride somewhat that she was seeing _him_ but still had such a connection to Ethan.

Drew just wasn't used to such standoffishness from women. He was used to being the one who turned women away…just as he'd done with Gwen.

Drew still could not believe Gwen's audacity in her attempt to seduce him. The recklessness he'd seen in her eyes gave him an uneasy feeling. She was up to something. He'd been up to enough things himself to recognize the signs. But what? He couldn't be sure.

His blue eyes narrowed. He could not help but be disarmed by his own behavior. He'd not gone so long without a woman in….he couldn't even remember how long. What had Theresa done to him?

She certainly was a woman that he could not read. Yet regardless of how Theresa felt about his behavior from yesterday, he did know this: she wouldn't miss her morning jog unless something had happened.

_I'll just check in with her on my way back down the beach_, he decided.

* * *

Hearing the doorbell ring, Ethan looked back at Theresa who was still immersed in conversation with Mr. Moreau.

"I'll get it," he mouthed.

Ethan watched her nod before turning around and pulling a notepad from a drawer.

Walking to the door, Ethan pulled it open.

"Andrew, what are doing here?" he asked as he saw his brother in the doorway.

* * *

Gwen Hotchkiss Crane stretched, reveling in the feeling that she was bathing in sunlight. Sunny mornings after a night of storms always seemed brighter than usual.

She wasn't quite ready to get up, though.

Turning on her side, she looked at the man who slept next to her. She halfway expected to see Ethan there, but as the sleep cleared from her mind, she remembered the events of the previous night. She'd been upset with her husband and had decided to find some comfort elsewhere.

She knew she should feel guilty, but she didn't. The first time she slept with anyone but Ethan, she had been positively horrified. The fact that that person had been Ethan's brother made it doubly worse. But this was different somehow. Perhaps she just found it difficult to feel guilty when she knew that Ethan had to be sleeping with Theresa. There simply was no way that a woman could have a hold over a man the way Theresa did over Ethan without sex being involved.

"Turnabout is fair play," she murmured.

The man stirred, Gwen's words awakening him from his restful slumber.

Gwen moved closer to him and nibbled at his ear. She'd thoroughly enjoyed herself the night before and wouldn't mind a reprise. She had to admit that it wasn't as good with Tom as it was with Ethan, but there was something exciting about being with a man she didn't know very well…or for that matter, a man she didn't care to know very well. There were no emotions to complicate matters. No history. Just that moment.

She ran her hand down his chest and lower, smiling in satisfaction as she felt him respond.

_This definitely has the potential to be quite an enjoyable morning,_ she thought to herself before being pulled into his embrace.

* * *

As Gwen walked into her parents' home, she felt a spring in her step. She knew that she should be horrified at having to face the day…and the complications in her marriage…but she felt invigorated.

Strolling into the living room, she helped herself to some orange juice and a bagel from the assortment of goodies on the brass cart. She was famished, having eaten little the day before and having expended much energy.

Several minutes passed, and Gwen was surprised that her mother had not come to greet her yet. She was certain that she'd told Rupert to inform her mother of her presence.

When Rebecca Hotchkiss finally did make an appearance, Gwen couldn't help but notice that her mother's skin was flushed. Smiling knowingly, Gwen said, "I take it that you and Daddy are getting along better."

Rebecca waved her hand in dismissal. "Oh, please. You know where your father and I stand."

Gwen frowned. When she was younger, she'd been devastated to realize the numerously infidelities that went on in her parents' marriage. She kept hoping that would change. Foolishly, whether or not she wanted to admit it, she still held out hope.

"Yes, I suppose I do," she murmured. A chill ran through her. _Is that where Ethan and I are heading?_ she wondered.

Rebecca surveyed her daughter keenly. "Gwen, why are you wearing a cocktail dress at nine o'clock in the morning? It's a bit early, don't you think? Not to mention a little gauche."

"It's not early to be wearing it, Mother. It's late."

Rebecca's eyes widened. "So Ethan finally found you! God, he was driving me crazy with all of his phone calls! He even showed up here once." She moved closer to her daughter and whispered conspiratively. "So did the two of you go off together somewhere and have a little tryst? Did you get that spark back in your marriage? Oh, Gwen, I knew that if you played hard to get everything would work out _perfectly_!"

"Mother, I wasn't with Ethan."

"What?" Rebecca's voice lowered and her eyes narrowed. "Gwen, don't tell me. Please don't tell me! You _didn't_!"

"I did," Gwen replied calmly. "What's done is done. And let me tell you, Mother, I had a good time doing it."

Rebecca gasped. Without thinking, she struck her daughter across her cheek.

Shocked, Gwen lifted her own hand to her cheek, feeling the sting from her mother's slap. Rebecca had never laid a hand on her before.

Angrily, she demanded, "What the hell was that?"

Rebecca shook her head. "You foolish, foolish girl! What have you done?" Frantically, she began pacing.

"Nothing that Ethan hasn't already done," Gwen replied defiantly. "If it's okay for Ethan to screw around with Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald, why is it so wrong for me to be with someone?"

"But you don't want to give him the ammunition he needs to divorce you, Gwen! What were you thinking? Of all the ridiculous, feeble-minded things you've done, this takes the cake!"

"You hypocrite!" Gwen hissed. "Why is it acceptable for you to have your fling with Petroleum-"

"Pietro," Rebecca corrected feeling her cheeks burn.

"Whatever the hell his name is…why is it acceptable for you to sleep with him but it's unacceptable for me to do what I choose with _my_ body?"

"The difference, Gwen, is that I have produced the necessary Hotchkiss heirs. You have yet to fulfill your duties as a Crane wife. You should be more concerned with finding ways to please your husband rather than finding ways to please yourself. Let's face it, Gwen. You can give Ethan something that his little half-breed slut can't: a true, legitimate heir. Use that to your advantage."

Gwen sank onto the sofa. "But that doesn't do me any good if Ethan won't be with me. I've noticed a change in him lately. He's reluctant to make love to me. I've only ever seen this in him once before. When I returned from New York shortly before we were married, he was hesitant to be with me." She frowned. "Of course, I came to know that it was because Theresa had sunk her claws into him. I can't tell you how humiliating it was to realize that he didn't want to be with me because he felt as though it would be a betrayal to _her_. It was as if _I_ was the other woman."

Rebecca sat next to her daughter and patted her hand. "Darling, we took care of Theresa then, didn't we?"

Slowly, Gwen nodded.

"Don't you trust me to take care of her now?" Rebecca asked.

"What if it isn't enough? Last time, it should have been enough! But she still has a hold on him. What if all of this is for nothing?"

"Believe me, Gwen, this will be enough and it won't be for naught. I have it all figured out."

"That's what you said last time."

_Gwen stood outside of the front door to the Crane Mansion, bags in hand. She was positively bubbling with excitement. The merger had gone through, and she was finally back in Harmony. She knew that Ethan had been frustrated with her lack of involvement in the planning of their wedding, but it had been worth dealing with her disappointed fiancé to see the look of admiration and pride in her father's face when the deal closed. She'd proven herself once and for all. She'd shown all the naysayers that she held her position in Hotchkiss Enterprises not because of her last name but because she was qualified and capable._

_As for her lack of involvement in the wedding, she was determined to change that. She hoped that it could erase the doubt seeping into her. She knew that the wedding should seem more real to her, but she still could not believe that she was going to become Mrs. Ethan Crane. It all seemed too good to be true. Everything that she had ever wanted was within her grasp. Together, she and Ethan would be a force to be reckoned with. They would establish their own Crane Dynasty, and their children would someday inherit the Crane Empire._

_She shuddered to think that her foolish mistake had almost cost her that dream. _

_Still apprehensive about the situation, she could not help but wonder about the consequences. What if Andrew told Ethan? He still could…_

_But something that her mother once told her stuck out in her mind. When in a bad situation, deny, deny, deny. If Andrew dared to broach the subject with Ethan, she would simply deny anything had ever happened. Gwen knew that Ethan's relationship with his brother wasn't the greatest, and Andrew was always trying to grandstand him. It would stand to reason that Ethan might doubt what his brother said._

_Then again, with Andrew's reputation…maybe not._

_It had just been so foolish!_

_But would denial truly work? _

No matter_, Gwen told herself_. I can't solve this problem right now. I intend to go in that house, open up my presents, see what Theresa has been working on, and make up for lost time with my fiancé.

_Opening the door, she was greeted by Pilar. "Welcome back, Gwen." Her words were warm, but her tone was not. Pilar dreaded the coming storm now that Gwen was back, knowing that her daughter would be embroiled in the midst of it._

_"Thank you, Pilar. It's good to be back," she said putting the bags down and clasping Pilar's arms. _

_She'd always liked Pilar and knew the housekeeper meant a great deal to Ethan. Yet she also had the oddest look on her face, as though she was dreading something_.

If only she weren't so sad all the time_, Gwen mused. _And constantly worried.

_Glancing in the living room, Gwen saw Theresa sitting on the sofa with her laptop computer on the coffee table. "Have you seen Ethan?" she asked Pilar._

_Pilar opened her mouth to respond, but before she was able to form the words, Gwen's attention was diverted. She finally saw the enormous stack of presents beyond Theresa. Her question was forgotten._

_Walking into the living room, her eyes shining, she laughed, "I cannot believe all of this!" She picked up a neatly wrapped package and looked at the card. "Oh my goodness! Did you see this, Theresa? It's from Caroline Kennedy Schlossburg!" She shook it lightly. "Whatever is in here, it must be exquisite!"_

_Theresa eyes grew wide when she saw Gwen. She knew the time would come when Gwen would return, but nothing could have prepared her for that actual moment. She wasn't sure what to say or even how to act. Everything had changed since Gwen had been gone. She and Ethan had grown close in Gwen's absence, a fact that would not be lost of Miss Hotchkiss. _

_"Hi Gwen. I didn't expect you to be back today," Theresa said interrupting Gwen's present perusal. Her words were soft, quiet._

_Gwen put down the gift. "I'm sorry! Where are my manners? It's good to see you, Theresa. I finally closed the deal, so I expect that we'll be seeing a lot more of each other. How is everything coming along?"_

_"The wedding is coming along well. I've been cataloging these gifts. I've already finished cataloging the others."_

_"There are more?"_

_"Oh, tons more," Theresa replied. "These are just the ones that arrived today. The others are upstairs."_

_Gwen clasped her hands together. "How exciting! I can't wait to open these!" She picked up another gift, looked at the label, and giggled. _

_Theresa looked up at her wondering what had her so amused. "What is it?" she asked._

_Gwen held the present down and pointed at the label._

_Theresa's features showed her confusion. "It's from Bill Gates and his wife. I don't understand. Why is that funny?"_

_"I just think it's interesting how the _nouveau riche_ scramble to grasp at respectability. It's so very difficult for them, though. They tend to flaunt what they have." _

_Gwen patted Theresa's shoulder. "You wouldn't understand. It just has to do with the difference in backgrounds." Gwen saw a shadow cross Theresa's features. "Oh, don't be upset with me, Theresa."_

_Theresa felt her face growing hot. It was hard not to be upset. Gwen liked to say that they were friends, but when she displayed such obvious snobbery, Theresa found it even more difficult to be around her. It made her realize that regardless of what she would be able to accomplish, people from Ethan's social set would always view her as an outsider and an upstart._

_Not wanting to betray her feelings, Theresa chose her words carefully. "I'm not. It's just that-"_

_Gwen interrupted her. "It's just that what?"_

_Theresa felt pride and even anger swell through her as she spoke. "There are people like Bill Gates who have been financially successful through hard work and ingenuity. That in itself demands respect, not ridicule. But there are ways to measure success other than through money and acquisitions. A sense of accomplishment can be worth so much more. My father's parents came to America in hopes of making a better life for themselves and their children. And that's what they did."_

_Gwen nodded. "You're right...to an extent. When I closed this merger, I did get satisfaction from knowing that I had done a good job. There is something very special about that. But Theresa, don't kid yourself. You're a smart girl, and you know that a sense of accomplishment won't feed, clothe, or shelter you." _

_Gwen was eager to leave the conversation behind. Yawning lightly, she asked, "So do you happen to know where Ethan is? I have a _special_ present for him to unwrap."_

_Theresa felt her heart drop. Of course Gwen would expect Ethan to be eager to see her and be with her. But the thought of the two of them…it was enough to bring tears to her eyes._

_Gwen looked down at Theresa who seemed quite uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, Theresa. I didn't mean to embarrass you. I forget myself sometimes, but we're all girls here. It' s just that Ethan is…_exceptional_, and I've missed being in his arms."_

_"N-no. Ethan isn't here. He's with Chad."_

_Gwen sighed, disappointment shining on her features. "Those two have been spending a lot of time together lately."_

_"They've been working on the music for the wedding, but yes, they've also become friends."_

_"No matter," Gwen said waving her hand dismissively. "Perhaps this friendship will come in handy when Ethan begins his foray into the political arena. It makes him seem as though he can represent interests of people who are not lily white."_

_Theresa stood. "I don't think that Ethan and Chad are friends because it will help Ethan's political career. They're friends because they share common interests and enjoy each others' company."_

_Gwen didn't seem to be listening. She turned and looked at Theresa. "While you're up, help me carry some of these presents upstairs."_

_"Sure," Theresa replied quietly._

_Gwen paused. "Theresa, I know that I've come back much like a hurricane, but I want to be a part of this wedding. You've had free reign over much of the planning, but I think we'll manage to learn to work together."_

_Theresa merely nodded, hoping that before long, planning Ethan and Gwen's wedding would be nothing more than a moot point._

_The two women took an armful of presents and ascended the stairs to go to Ethan's bedroom. Gwen's eyes grew wide when she saw the volume of gifts in the room. Theresa hadn't been kidding when she'd said that there were many more. _

_Gwen headed back down the stairs, but Theresa lingered. Looking around her, seeing the evidence that a wedding between Ethan and Gwen was, indeed, on the horizon was becoming increasingly difficult. And now with Gwen home…_

_Theresa swallowed hard. Gwen was expecting Ethan to sleep with her. She hadn't come out and said it, but Theresa knew that was what she was implying. What was going to happen when Ethan finally told Gwen the truth? That she and Ethan loved each other? That a wedding wasn't going to take place? _

_A chill ran down Theresa's spine. Would Ethan change his mind once he saw Gwen? There was no doubt in Theresa's mind that Ethan loved Gwen. They'd been together since they were little more than children. Theresa wasn't even sure how to compete with that type of history…or even if she had a right to try._

_She was lost in her thoughts as she descended the staircase and began to walk back into the living room. Yet the sight which greeted her brought her back to reality quite quickly. _

Gwen was talking to Luis.

_Panic filled Theresa_. Luis can't find me here!

_Gwen's eyes widened when she saw Theresa and she knew that Luis couldn't find her there. What Sheridan saw in him, Gwen wasn't even sure. He certainly was a fine specimen, but there were other men with great bodies and great looks whose personalities were far superior to Luis Lopez-Fitzgerald's. _

_Gwen knew from experience how intense Luis's reactions could be, especially where the Cranes were concerned. If he found out that his sister was working on a Crane wedding, that would be the end of it. Luis would forbid Theresa from helping further, and that was a risk Gwen was not willing to take. Theresa had been so helpful with the wedding._

_Seeing Gwen's eyes widen, Luis turned around to see what she was reacting to. From the corner of his eye, he caught a fleeting glimpse of someone…familiar…but the glimpse was too brief for him to be able to identify the person. _

_"Who was that?" Luis asked turning back to Gwen._

_Gwen shrugged. "My guess is that it was probably one of the maids. They're always scurrying about, trying to stay out of sight."_

_Luis frowned, thinking of his mother. He hated that she worked for such despicable people. Yet she had refused over and over to quit. For some odd reason, she felt a loyalty to the Crane family. Luis would never understand it, especially considering that he knew in his gut that they were responsible for his father's disappearance. _

_Gwen was relieved when Luis seemed to accept her explanation. _

_"I can't imagine what is taking my mother so long," he muttered._

_"Well, we did ring for her. I'm sure she's getting here as quickly as she can," Gwen reasoned._

_"Right."_

_Luis looked around the living room. The photographs on the mantle caught his eye…in particular, a photograph of Sheridan._

_Seeing this, Gwen commented, "You care for her a great deal, don't you?"_

_Luis turned back around to answer her, when something else caught his eye. Sitting on the coffee table was a laptop computer, and it looked exactly like Theresa's._

_"What is Theresa's laptop doing here?" he asked walking to the computer and examining it further._

_Gwen crossed her arms. "What are you talking about, Luis?" she asked. "That is my laptop. I just brought it back from my business trip."_

_"I could have sworn…"_

_"Well, if you've seen one laptop, you've seen another. They all look very similar."_

_"I suppose you're right."_

_"_Mi hijo_, what are you doing here?" Pilar asked as she walked into the living room. _

_"I came to pick you up," Luis replied._

_Pilar glanced at the watch she wore on her wrist. "But it isn't time, Luis. I have much work to do."_

_Luis put an arm around his mother. "I've already spoken to Mrs. Crane. When I told her what I had in mind, she agreed to let you have the rest of the day off."_

_"What _did_ you have in mind?" Pilar asked with incredulity. _

_"Some much deserved pampering and a Lopez-Fitzgerald family night. I feel as though we hardly ever see each other. Miguel is always at the Bennett house, and Theresa is constantly gone, as well. And I," Luis looked down. "I haven't been there for you like I should, either. You work too hard, and you deserve this, Mama."_

_Pilar touched her son's face. "Oh, Luis, don't you know that you already give me so much joy?"_

_Gwen touched Pilar's shoulder lightly. "Go. Enjoy your evening," she encouraged._

_Pilar smiled as Luis held out his arm for her and escorted her out._

_Theresa watched as her mother and Luis left. Her heart still hadn't returned to normal._

_She emerged from her hiding place and walked back into the living room._

_"Thank you, Gwen!" she said excitedly. "I hate deceiving Luis, but if he knew that I worked for the Cranes, he just wouldn't understand."_

_Gwen hugged Theresa lightly. "Isn't that what friends are for? To protect each others' interests? I can't tell you how much I appreciate what you've done for Ethan and me. I know that spending time with him has probably put a damper on your social life, so I can't express how grateful I am…"_

_"Please, Gwen, don't say that," Theresa said hurriedly._

_"Why not? It's true. I am grateful. I know that I was suspicious of you and quite unpleasant to you on a number of occasions, but I realize how ridiculous I was. Ethan would never be interested in you." _

_Gwen watched for a reaction._

_Theresa felt guilt wash over her. "Gwen, there's something I need to tell you."_

_"Go ahead."_

_"I-"_

R-r-r-r-r-i-n-g.

_"Theresa, I think your cell phone is ringing."_

_"It is, but it can wait," Theresa replied._

_"It might be something urgent."_

_Theresa knew Gwen was right. Pulling the phone from her purse, she answered it. _

_"Hello?"_

"Theresa, it's Luis. Where are you?"

_"Um, just out and about," she replied._

"Well, I just wanted to remind you that I'm expecting you home in ten minutes. You are bringing the surprise, aren't you?"

_"Oh no."_

"What was that, Theresa? I couldn't quite hear you."

_"I'm on my way, Luis."_

_She turned off the phone. Looking over at Gwen, she said, "I've got to go. I completely forgot that I was supposed to pick up flowers for Mama. If I don't hurry, Luis is going to be furious and start asking questions."_

_"Of course," Gwen said nodding. "Don't worry about it, Theresa. I wasn't really planning on working on the wedding with you tonight anyway. This will give Ethan and me a chance to catch up."_

_"Will you please tell Ethan where I had to go?"_

_Gwen laughed lightly. "Oh, darling, I don't think he'll be too worried about you having the evening off when he sees that _I'm_ home."_

_Gwen picked up Theresa's purse and took her arm, leading her to the door. "Have a wonderful evening with your family, Theresa. And don't worry about us. We'll be fine."_

_As the door closed behind her, Theresa took a deep breath. _Why do I get the feeling that after tonight, things will never be the same again?

_Gwen closed the front door and walked back into the living room. Finally some peace and quiet. Sitting on the sofa, she took off her heels, and pulled her legs up onto the cushions. Reaching for the phone on the table, she dialed Ethan's cell phone number. Perhaps a little prompting would bring him home sooner._

_As the phone rang, her eyes surveyed the room. It was one of her favorite in the entire house. She looked forward to spending many evenings in that very room with Ethan as his wife. _

_Her gaze fell onto Theresa's laptop computer. _

_"Oh no! Theresa was in such a hurry, she forgot her computer!" She sighed. So much for Theresa getting any work done that night. "What does one night matter?" she asked aloud feeling magnanimous. "We could all use a break."_

_The phone continued to ring, but no answer._

_Sighing, she returned the receiver to its receptacle. While she waited for Ethan to come home, she had an idea of how she could pass the time. Theresa kept the wedding planning information on the computer. What better way to catch up?_

_She reached for the computer and set it on her lap. Looking at the icons on Theresa's desktop, she saw the usual: internet, e-mail, recycling bin. Soon, she noticed an icon entitled "Wedding." Everything she should need to look at would be right there._

_Gwen moved her fingers along the laptop's sensory pads to click on the icon, but something else caught her eye: an icon in the bottom of the screen entitled "My Diary."_

_Gwen paused. Curiosity was creeping in. What did Theresa write about in her diary? Did she write about her feelings for Chuck Wilson and about their break-up? Did she write about the wedding? Did she write about her friends? Did she write about Ethan?_

_Gwen knew that her mother was suspicious of Theresa. She hated to admit it, but a small part of her had a hard time trusting Theresa, too. Reading Theresa's diary should eliminate those suspicions. _

There is nothing wrong with being certain, is there? _she asked herself_. That's all. I'm just going to be certain.

_Licking her lips, she clicked on the icon and began to read Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald's diary._


	43. Chapter 43

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Notes: Thanks so much for the reviews. I truly appreciate those of you who take the time to read and comment.

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Three: The Idea of You**

"Andrew, I asked you a question. What are you doing here?" Ethan demanded as he looked at his brother standing in the doorway of Theresa's house.

Several colorful expletives ran through Drew's mind as he looked at his brother. The last thing that he had expected to happen was for his brother to be answering the door to Theresa's house. What was he doing there?

_Then it hit_.

Drew felt his blood boil as he surveyed his brother. Ethan looked disheveled. It was obvious that the Golden Boy didn't get much sleep the night before. Drew could only imagine why, and it made him angry.

_Why did I cut myself off from everyone woman I know for this? Just to see my brother answering the door at Theresa's house looking so comfortable. It's almost as if he owns the place…and her. _

Ethan crossed his arms, waiting for Andrew to respond. The last thing he needed was for Drew to begin with his ridiculous and lewd implications that he was having an affair with Theresa. He'd had a long enough morning as it was. He didn't want to deal with his brother's wise cracks on top of it.

Drew narrowed his eyes. "Why do you think I'm here, Ethan?" he asked coyly.

"My guess is that you're the family watchdog for the morning. It didn't take long for Father to send out the troops to try to keep me in line."

Drew felt a wave of relief wash over him. Ethan didn't know that he'd been there not to see him, but to see Theresa. His plans for Theresa were in jeopardy, but not unsalvageable. Yet if Ethan were to catch wind of the real reason for his appearance, that would be the end of it.

"_Are_ you getting out of line, Ethan?" Drew asked nonchalantly.

"Perhaps I should ask Father or Grandfather that question. Or perhaps you, Andrew. Have they drawn you back into the family's pastime of interfering with other people's lives? What kind of game are you playing?"

"Oh, you're too smart for me," Andrew replied with sarcasm. He shook his head. "It's interesting how you can stand there with your righteous indignation when you've obviously just been caught at your little love nest. Mother's not here, so do us both a favor and save your pious act for someone who buys it."

"God, Andrew! What is your problem? You know full well that this is not my love nest! Theresa and I are _not_ having an affair."

"Save it for someone who will believe you. Gwen perhaps…" Drew turned to walk away, but turned around. "Oh, but I forgot. Even Gwen's not buying it anymore, poor sap that she is."

"Careful, Andrew. You might be my brother, but you are very close to crossing the line," Ethan replied with clenched fists.

It took all of Drew's being not to laugh at his brother. "If you think you have what it takes, I'd like to see it. But let's face it: wearing a pink apron with ruffles does tend to take off the edge, Ethan."

Ethan looked down at his apron. He'd completely forgotten that he had it on.

Andrew patted his brother's face. "Sorry for that little dose of reality right in the middle of your game of house."

Ethan jerked away and glared at his brother as he walked away. Each time he saw Andrew, it became increasingly difficult to restrain himself from decking him. He had a feeling that their time was coming…a time when they would lay everything on the table once and for all.

He closed the door and walked back into the kitchen. Theresa was just hanging up the phone. Immediately, she noticed the frown upon Ethan's face.

"Who was that at the door? Was it news about Chuck?"

"No," Ethan replied pulling off the apron. "It was my brother."

Theresa couldn't help but detect the note of disgust in Ethan's tone.

"I didn't know he was in town," Theresa commented as she pulled some plates from the cupboard. "You know it's strange, but even after all these years, I don't think I've ever met him."

"Believe me when I say that you aren't missing out on anything. Andrew is not the kind of man that you need to be around. He's a user."

Theresa paused for a moment. "Andrew," she repeated. "Hmmmm."

Ethan glanced at her, seeing the wheels in her mind turning. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm not sure exactly," she hedged. Pushing the crazy thought she was having from her mind, she asked, "Why don't you tell me about your sisters? I've not heard anything about them in so long."

* * *

Rebecca leaned back against the sofa, allowing herself to sink into its plush cushions. Her daughter had caught her off guard that morning, but it was great timing for a very valuable lesson.

"You know, Gwen, I've always told you that careless people…"

"…deserve what comes to them," Gwen supplied with a sigh. "Yes, Mother. We've been through this. But you also told me that if I don't take risks, I don't deserve the spoils of victory."

"But there is such a thing as a foolhardy risk and an acceptable risk, is there not? The reason I say this is very simple. There are two types of people in the world."

"The haves and the have-nots?"

"Different lecture, Gwen. Go with me. Now, as I was saying, there are two types of people in the world: the weak and the strong. You are a strong woman. That little strumpet Theresa is weak. Not only is she weak, she's careless. That works in our favor. It did before, and it will once again."

Gwen rolled her eyes. "It was pretty stupid for Theresa to keep her diary on her laptop, wasn't it?"

Rebecca giggled. "Yes! I mean, she left it where _anybody_ could stumble across it!"

* * *

_Gwen's eyes widened as she began to peruse Theresa's entries. _

_"I think I'm going to be sick."_

**November 26, 1999**

**Dear Diary,**

**It was so nice of Mrs. Crane to give me this laptop computer! I would never be able to afford one of these. It must've cost a fortune.**

**Of course, now I can take my work with me everywhere I go. **

**And it looks like you have a new home, Diary. It's so much faster to type than to write things out by hand. Only you know everything, Diary. Not even Whitney knows everything. I think that one day it will be fun to look back and see what I was feeling.**

**So let's start off everything the right way. It's been no secret to you that I am crazy about Ethan. He's just perfect. I've never known anyone like him. A lot of other men in his situation in life would be snobby or even try to take advantage of women, but that's not him. **

**When I was a little girl, Mama told me stories about Ethan. How he was such a good person; so kind, so loving, but so lonely. I used to always think that I would be the one to take that loneliness away, but I'm starting to wonder. **

**There is no doubt in my mind that there is a connection between us. I keep trying to tell him that I have feelings for him, but he just doesn't get it. When we were at the ballet, he thought that I was talking about someone else. As if I could care about anyone else! **

_"You are one sicko, Theresa," Gwen muttered. "Just keep dreaming about that so-called connection. A dream is all you'll ever have."_

_She continued reading. _

**Gwen is suspicious of me. She thinks that I'm after Ethan. **

**I'll be honest; I don't think that they're meant to be together. I just don't see any kind of spark in Ethan's eyes when he looks at her. It's almost as if they're together because it's comfortable. Ethan deserves to be with someone who can make him happy. Gwen deserves that, too. She deserves a man who lives and breathes her. I get the feeling that Ethan is too independent-minded for her. He just doesn't **_**need**_** her.**

_"You little bitch. As if you have any idea of what you're talking about! But guess who has your number now. It makes me wonder about Chuck's convenient appearance."_

_Gwen skipped ahead in the diary._

**January 1, 2000**

**It's all my fault! Papa is dead because of me. I kept praying to God that something would happen so that I wouldn't have to show up to dinner without a boyfriend…so that Gwen and Ethan wouldn't know that I loved him. But I never intended for this to happen! It's all my fault. All my fault.**

_Gwen rolled her eyes. "Puleeze, Theresa! As if everything revolves around _you_." _

**January 4, 2000**

**It wasn't Papa! It was just some man claiming to be my father. I can't even begin to describe how happy I am! Papa could still be out there somewhere!**

**Luis is so relieved. I'd never seen him so upset as when he thought it was Papa who died. **

**And Mama…she still holds out hope that Papa will come home. She lights the candles for Papa and Antonio each night. Someday, they will come back. I just know it.**

**Amidst all the happiness, there is one dark spot: Gwen Hotchkiss. I cannot believe the nerve of that woman! She tried to use what we thought was my father's funeral to turn Ethan against me. Thank heavens Whitney came to the rescue. **

**The look on Gwen's face when Father Lonigan gave me the message that my boyfriend had called was priceless. She still didn't want to believe it, though.**

_"I knew it! I knew it was a lie! But how did you pull off the appearance of Chuck?"_

**Diary, you know that I don't like lying. But if I tell the truth, Ethan will hate me. He'll think that I was trying to manipulate him from the beginning. Or he'll believe Gwen and think that I've only been after his money. But I don't care about the money! If Ethan were a pauper, I would still love him because he is so special. There's no one like him.**

**With that said, I've thought about my New Year's resolutions.**

**Make Ethan realize his feelings for me **

**Do well in school so I can get into a good college **

**Be nicer to Mama. I know she worries about me. **

**Cut out the lies **

_Gwen shook her head. "You are something else, Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald."_

**January 15, 2000**

**Dear Diary,**

**Whitney came to my rescue again! I thought for certain that I was a goner! How she manages to do these things, I'll never know. But she is the best friend a girl could ever have!**

**I thought for certain that I was going to have to tell Ethan that he was the one that I loved…not some phantom boyfriend. I was actually about to tell the truth when a handsome young man showed up and kissed me. Whitney got one of the guys that she plays tennis with to pretend to be my boyfriend! His name was Chuck.**

**Gwen was suspicious at first, but I think that we convinced her.**

**Chuck was really nice, and I think that he liked me, but I just can't imagine being with anyone other than Ethan. I just wish that these lies would stop growing. I just don't know what to do.**

_"Well, for starters you could try telling the truth," Gwen said bitterly. "I knew I was right. I knew it! But everyone made me feel like I was the bad guy for suspecting you. But you-you, dear Theresa, are about to get what's coming to you."_

**February 7, 2000**

**Ethan and I went to the jewelry store to look at rings today, Diary. The way he looked at me when he slipped that beautiful engagement ring on my finger gave me chills. I could almost imagine that I was the one he was asking to marry.**

**But the most amazing thing happened. When I tried to take it off, it wouldn't come off! I think this is a sign. Ethan and I are meant to be together! It's fate. I know Whit is tired of hearing me say that, but it **_**is**_** fate!**

**Gwen keeps hinting about a ring, though. If she sees that I have her ring on my finger, she is going to be furious. She might even break up with Ethan.**

_Gwen looked down at the large ring she wore on her left hand. Theresa wore it before she did? Unbelievable._

**February 14, 2000**

**Dear Diary,**

**It's Valentine's Day. The ring came off, and Ethan proposed to Gwen. He kept thanking me over and over for saving his relationship with her. I have a hard time believing that a ring would make or break a relationship, though. How secure is Gwen if she is **_**demanding**_** that Ethan give her a ring? **

**Ethan looked so upset when I couldn't get the ring off. I couldn't stand to see him hurting. If Gwen is who truly makes him happy, I wish them all the best. Still, it was so hard to see him propose marriage to her.**

**Perhaps at one time I would have kept the ring on my finger and pretended that it was still stuck. But I've come to realize something. If Ethan and I are going to be together, it's going to have to be because he wants to be with me and only me. There can't be any uncertainty hanging over his head. **

**I know he'll come to realize his feelings for me, but will it be too late for us by then?**

_Gwen read on._

**February 25, 2000**

**Gwen wants me to be her wedding planner! Oh, this is all wrong! She found the portfolio that I'd put together for my own wedding and assumed it was for her. How can I do this? How can I watch Gwen and Ethan have my wedding? But if I refuse to do it, then they'll know that I love Ethan. I can't let that happen. What am I going to do?**

_"It doesn't seem like you've had too difficult a time stabbing me in the back, Theresa. And to think that I protected you from being found by your brother tonight. The joke's on me."_

**March 19, 2000**

**I was talking to Jessica today and she told me that Noah was planning on coming home for spring break. I am so excited! I feel as though I haven't seen Noah in forever.**

**When I mentioned this to Ethan, he seemed a little distracted by it. He knows that Noah was my first boyfriend…and the first boy I ever kissed. I wonder if he was jealous?**

**March 23, 2000**

**Dear Diary,**

**I saw Noah tonight. It was just like old times…as if he never went away. We fell into our old habits of telling stupid jokes and teasing each other. He tried to kiss me, but I pulled away. I hated to hurt his feelings, but it just didn't feel right to kiss Noah feeling the way that I do about Ethan.**

**Gwen is in New York working on a business merger for her father. She's apparently quite astute with business matters. I suppose that is her forte while design is mine. I know that Ethan misses her, but he's also a little frustrated that she's been so hands-off in planning the wedding. I, too, have found it strange that she's so uninvolved.**

**Ethan and I have been spending a lot of time together, and I feel as though this connection we have is getting even stronger. It's very hard to be around him and not want to scream from the highest mountaintop that I'm in love with him. He just means so much to me.**

_"There's only a connection in your feeble little brain. Ethan's just a nice guy. You shouldn't read so much into it."_

**April 10, 2000**

**Dear Diary, **

**Whitney came and stayed with me tonight. I have a feeling about Chad Harris and her. Whether she wants to admit it or not, I know there is something between them. I just wish her mother didn't disapprove of him. Whit wants so much to be like her mom that I am afraid she is going to give up this chance for love. **

**If I ever had a chance for love with Ethan, I would never let it pass me by. Love is simply too precious. **

**The time that Ethan and I share is like being in heaven! It just can't get any better than this! The other night after working on wedding plans, Ethan took me home. He ended up staying late, and we had the best time. We made cookies, and played a silly game, and just laughed and laughed. But there was a time when I was certain he wanted to kiss me. He told me that my eyes were exquisite. The way he looked at me just made me want to melt. **

**I hate feeling as though I am deceiving him. I know I should tell Ethan that Chuck and I were never together... that when I speak of my feelings, I was talking about him, not Chuck. I'm scared, though. There's just no way around that. If I tell him, he will think that I was purposely trying to drive a wedge between Gwen and him, and that's not it at all! **

**Diary, I know that Fate intends for us to be together. If I just believe hard enough and wait long enough, it will happen. I know it will.**

_Gwen smiled. "You're going to be waiting a long time. At least until Hell freezes over."_

_She skipped ahead._

**May 3, 2000**

**Dear Diary,**

**Being with Ethan at the cabin yesterday was bittersweet. The last time we were there, it was a place filled with happiness and laughter. I'll never forget being snowed in with Ethan, Whitney, and Chad. I saw a side of him those days that few people have seen. I'll never forget his terrible Italian accent or his adorable Elvis impersonation. But perhaps my favorite memory was singing with him. I've never felt anything like it. During those moments, I was so sure he would kiss me.**

**I love him so much it scares me, and to know he feels the same way is simply incredible. Indescribable, really. But I always knew this moment would come. Fate brought us together.**

**This time around was different. I've never seen such a look of hurt and disappointment in a person's eyes. I only wish I could take away his pain. I can't imagine what it must be like to know… I suppose it's best to not even write it. Not even to you, Diary. But the secret that we share could change everyone's lives forever. It just kills me to see him hurting. **

**Mama is upset with me for not coming home, but I told her that I'm a good girl. Nothing happened between Ethan and me that shouldn't have happened. She worries, though. She says the Cranes will never accept that Ethan wants me in his life. I'll never belong, she keeps telling me. But I have to believe I will. I have to! Ethan and I will be together.**

**I told Mama that I was going to tell him the truth about everything. She says it will only cause him to turn on me, but I just can't believe that. Once he knows that I never set out to hurt him, he'll understand. **

**Right now I'm more afraid of how Luis and Gwen will react to the news. Luis already hates Ethan, and I just don't understand why. He says that all the Cranes are evil, but they're not. Especially Ethan. He's the most wonderful man I've ever known.**

**I'm sure Luis is going to try to send me away. Probably to Tia Maria. As much as I love Tia Maria and Paloma, I don't want to live in Spain. I can't be away from Ethan. Besides, I'm eighteen years old now. Luis can't do that. Can he? **

**But he is going to be furious. Still, I have to believe that true love will win out in the end.**

**And Gwen. She's going to be hurt. She might not be my friend, but I still feel badly for her. **

**I know Ethan loves her, but I just don't think he's in love with her. In the long run, this is for the best. She'll meet someone who will love her the way she deserves to be loved. **

**Everything is going to work out. I just know it will.**

_Gwen's eyes widened. Ethan told Theresa that he loved her? No. That had to be the ramblings of a love-sick girl. Ethan would never…would he?_

_And what was Theresa talking about? Ethan acting like Elvis? Ethan would _never_ do something so ridiculous! Nor would he be sharing some deep, dark secret with her!_

**June 15, 2000**

**Ethan doesn't want to tell Gwen over the phone. Mama keeps telling me that he won't tell Gwen the truth. That his family would never accept their wedding not taking place, but I have faith in him. I believe in him. He'll tell Gwen that he loves me as soon as she gets home.**

_Gwen swallowed hard. _Theresa did seem terribly uncomfortable when I'd mentioned making up for lost time with that's impossible! Ethan would not throw away our relationship for a fling with the housekeeper's daughter.

_"I will say this for you though, Theresa. You did have everyone fooled. What a clever manipulator you are. But obviously not clever enough. I can't believe that you would leave information out where anyone could read it!" Gwen muttered._

When Ethan gets home, I will tell him about the diary and the nonsense that Theresa is writing about him, _Gwen decided_.

_Taking a blank floppy disk from her briefcase, Gwen inserted the disk into the computer and copied Theresa's files. "Mother has got to see this." _

_Gwen didn't have to wait long for Ethan to return. Almost as soon as she copied the files and closed the computer, Ethan walked into the living room._

_"Gwen! I didn't realize you were back!" he exclaimed._

_"I just got back today," Gwen said walking to where he stood and hugging him. She looked up and him and pressed her lips to his. She was surprised by the somewhat cold response she got from him. Something didn't seem right._

_"I'm glad you're back," he said._

_"I'm glad to be back. Good news, though. The merger went through perfectly. Father is even talking about promoting me."_

_"That is wonderful, Gwen! I'm so proud of you!" he replied hugging her._

_Gwen took in a deep breath. "It's been so long, Ethan. I have a couple of surprises for you, but we'll need to go upstairs."_

_"I was just going to suggest that. I have some things I need to talk with you about."_

_Gwen smiled. "Then what are we waiting for?"_

_Together, they walked up the stairs. As Ethan closed the door to his bedroom, Gwen felt chills of anticipation. She could hardly wait to be with him…or to tell him what she'd found out about the housekeeper's daughter._

_She took his hands and walked him to the bed. Gently, she pushed him down onto the edge of it. Standing in front of him, she began to slowly unbutton his shirt. _

_"Gwen, I-"_

_She held her finger to his lips. "Sshhh, Ethan. No talking," she said with a smile._

_Swiftly, she pulled the shirt down his arms. _

_"Gwen, we really need to talk," he said pulling the shirt back on._

_She sighed. "But Ethan, it's been so long since you and I-"_

_"I know," Ethan replied. "But this can't wait. It's about you, me, and Theresa."_

_Gwen felt like the room was spinning around her. _

It was true!

_What Theresa had written about Ethan and her was true! _

_No, she couldn't let Ethan say it. She couldn't let him tell her that he loved Theresa. She wasn't ready for it._

_"Um, Ethan, do you know what time it is?" Gwen asked._

_Ethan frowned. She didn't seem so concerned about the time a moment ago, but dutifully, he glanced at his watch. "It's almost 7:00."_

_"I'm sorry, Darling, but I have to go. I promised Mother that I would see her tonight."_

_"Do you have to go right now, Gwen? I really need to talk to you!" Ethan protested._

_Gwen scurried about the room picking up a few stray belongings. "You know how Mother can be. We'll talk soon. Promise." Absently, she kissed him on the lips and hurried from the room leaving behind a flustered fiancé. _

_As she stood in the hallway, she willed the tears that were welling in her eyes to go away. "I have to keep my wits about me," she whispered. "Mother will know what to do."_

* * *

"I know you're upset with me, Mother, because you think I've been just as careless as Theresa, but I assure you that I haven't been. Tom is the kind of man who doesn't want any complications in his life. He's not going to try to cause problems for me. Besides, I didn't even tell him my real name."

"What name did you use?" Rebecca asked, thankful that her daughter had the foresight to do something so clever.

Gwen smiled wryly. "Theresa."

"Theresa!"

"I just thought that it seemed like something Theresa would do. When he asked me my name, it just popped out."

Rebecca giggled. "Oh, Gwenie! That is so delicious!"

Gwen nodded feeling quite pleased with herself. "_I _thought so."

"Just promise me that you won't do anything so foolhardy again. I love you, dear, but cleaning up your messes can be quite difficult at times."

Gwen crossed her arms. "And when have you had to clean up my mess?"

"What do you call the whole Ethan/Theresa fiasco five and a half years ago? If you hadn't been so intent on gallivanting around playing businesswoman, it never would have happened, and you wouldn't have come to me begging for help."

* * *

_"You were right, Mother. You were right!" Gwen said as she clung to Rebecca. "I just can't believe it. How could he do this to me? And how could that little tramp betray me like this? She pretended to be my friend!"_

_Rebecca smoothed her daughter's hair. "There, there. You did the right thing by coming to me and getting out of that situation. It's not over yet, Gwenie. Do you hear me? It's not over yet!" No daughter of a housekeeper was going to usurp _her_ daughter's position as the wife of the Crane heir. _

_"Yes, it is! Ethan would not throw away our relationship unless he was serious about her. He just wouldn't!" Her crying was becoming more hysterical._

_Rebecca took her daughter's face in her hands. "Now listen to me, Gwen. You _will _marry Ethan. Nothing has happened yet. Did you bring it?"_

_Gwen didn't reply, still crying._

_"Answer me, Gwen. Did you bring it?" Rebecca demanded._

_Gwen nodded. "I-it's in my briefcase."_

_Rebecca kissed her daughter's cheek. "Good girl. Go get it, and we'll take a look."_

_Rebecca took the disk from her daughter and inserted it into her husband's computer. For the next few minutes, she read Theresa's diary entries. When she finished, she looked up at her daughter. "Why, it's positively nauseating!"_

_"I kn-know." Gwen replied between cries._

_Rebecca sighed. "Pull yourself together, Gwen. Do you think you can do that? What I have planned is contingent upon it."_

_"What do you mean? What do you have planned?"_

_"Listen to me carefully. If you do as I say, Ethan will never want to see that little gold digger again. You _will_ be Mrs. Ethan Crane."_

* * *

Ethan sighed as he opened the door to the Crane Mansion. It was only about 10:30 a.m., but he felt like it was 10:30 p.m.

Rubbing his face, he could feel the stubble. What he needed was a nice hot shower and a shave. Hopefully after that, he would feel like a new man.

He walked up the stairs. As he was about to open the door to his room, he saw Julian round the corner.

"Ethan, my boy, wait a moment, won't you?" Julian asked.

"Father, I have a lot to take care of today," Ethan replied wearily.

Julian smiled. "I won't keep you long. I just wanted to tell you something."

Ethan looked up at the ceiling and then back at his father. "What is it?"

Julian touched his son's shoulder. "Just that I'm proud of you. You definitely have that Crane spirit."

"What are you talking about?"

"Why the scrumptious Theresa, of course," Julian replied.

"I believe I told you not too long ago to not say her name. You sully it whenever you use it."

"Oh, tsk, tsk, Ethan. You, better than anyone else, know that she's not as pure as the driven snow."

"Father, get out of my face before I do something I regret," Ethan hissed.

"Very well, Ethan. But I _am_ proud of you. You're finally starting to show your Crane genes."

Ethan looked at the man. _If only you knew that I'm not your son. _

He opened the door and went into bedroom. He was about to close the door, but stopped. Something that Julian said stood out. Walking back out into the hall, he called to the other man. "Father, wait. May I ask you something?"

"Anything," Julian replied.

"Did you or Grandfather send Andrew after me this morning?"

Julian looked at him in disbelief. "Why would you even ask that? Contrary to what your mother thinks, I am a considerate person. I would never send someone to interrupt you and T-, um, your _paramour_. Grandfather wouldn't either. You're married to Gwen now, so what does it matter?"

Wordlessly, Ethan returned to his room. If neither his father nor grandfather sent Andrew, what the hell had he been doing at Theresa's house?

* * *

Drew sat at the bar at Lucky's Tavern. He motioned for the bartender to pour another shot of vodka. Without a word, the barkeep did so.

Quickly, Drew downed it, feeling the burning of the liquid as it slid down his throat.

What a morning it had been.

He knew he should feel satisfied about bringing his brother down a notch or two and for interrupting his sexcapade with Theresa, but for some reason, he could garner no satisfaction from the thought.

To know that Ethan had been there with Theresa…it gave Drew the strangest feeling.

It _hurt_.

The realization was stunning.

He was so accustomed to remaining aloof, but as much as he tried to remain distant from Theresa, he couldn't. She had a hold over him…a hold that went beyond the physical.

He couldn't believe that he'd actually considered coming clean to her and admitting who he was. Just as he couldn't believe that he'd actually considered the possibility of a future with her.

No, what he was going to do would ruin any chance of that.

Soon, he would break the hold. In the process, he would break Ethan, too.

_And it will all be worth it_.

* * *

"Mr. Crane, it's good to see you," Joseph McCartle said upon seeing Ethan approach him at the Harmony Airport.

Ethan took the man's hand and shook it.

"You, too, Joseph."

"Are you ready to go?" Joseph asked.

Ethan nodded. "I am."

The two men started walking through the terminal and to the Crane's private jet. Once on the plane, Ethan took a seat.

"Could I get you a drink, Mr. Crane? Some brandy, perhaps?"

"No thank you. I can't have anything dulling my senses."

"Oh, so you have business in New York today?" Joseph asked.

Ethan looked up at the man who stood next to where he sat. "I suppose you could say that."

"Very well. Enjoy your flight."

"Thank you, Joseph."

A few minutes later Ethan looked out the window of the jet as the lift off began. Perhaps it had been impulsive to call the airport and order the plane readied, but nothing had made much sense in the last twenty-four hours.

The night before Theresa had mentioned that she didn't see Chuck's body at the funeral or at the morgue. Perhaps speaking to the coroner would shed some light on the mystery.

The situation just became stranger and stranger all the time. What if Chuck were still alive? What would that mean?

And if he wasn't, that would mean that someone was playing with Theresa's head. Who could be so cruel?

He took a deep breath. There was another possibility; one that he hadn't been willing to entertain. Did he dare allow himself to think it? Was it possible that Theresa was lying?

Immediately, he dismissed the thought.

It was true that in the past, Theresa had been less than honest with him, but this was different. Theresa had been desperate, frantic. Her emotions were raw and real. Even the best actor could not have mimicked those emotions.

Ethan closed his eyes. He could still see her; she still haunted him. Everything about her, from her deep brown eyes to her smile and her tiny hands…everything about her captivated him. Her spirit, her strength, her sense of humor, her zest for life….it captivated him.

And it was preposterous.

After everything that she had done…after the way she had broken his heart those years ago…why did he find himself wanting to believe in her? Why did he feel willing to move heaven and earth to find answers for her?

_It's the idea of you…the idea of your innocence and vivacity. But that isn't real, is it?_

And he remembered the day that idea had been shattered.


	44. Chapter 44

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Notes: Thanks so much for the reviews. I truly appreciate those of you who take the time to read and comment.

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Four: Charade**

Ethan closed his eyes. He could still see her; she still haunted him. Everything about her, from her deep brown eyes to her smile and her hands…everything about her captivated him. Her spirit, her strength, her sense of humor, her zest for life….it captivated him.

And it was preposterous.

After everything that she had done…after the way she had broken his heart those years ago…why did he find himself wanting to believe in her? Why did he feel willing to move heaven and earth to find answers for her?

_It was the idea of you…the idea of your innocence and vivacity._

And he remembered the day that idea had been shattered.

* * *

_Ethan sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. He was having a difficult time concentrating on the paperwork in front of him. He dreaded what he knew he must do. As much as he had fought against it…as much as he knew it would hurt Gwen…he knew he had to face up to his feelings for Theresa. He owed that to both women. Gwen deserved to know what was going on. _

_It was just so _hard_._

_Gwen had been a major part of his life for almost as long as he could remember. They had shared everything. She was the first girl he'd ever kissed, the only woman he'd ever made love to. He loved Gwen, but…_

But she wasn't Theresa.

_His feelings for Theresa defied everything that was logical, but they'd taken his heart by storm. _She'd_ taken his heart by storm; the way she could see possibilities everywhere, the way she could look at something ordinary and find something extraordinary about it, the way she dreamed, the way she laughed, the way she was his best friend, the way she fit so perfectly in his arms. _

_The road ahead of them wouldn't be easy, but Ethan knew that he and Theresa would walk it together. He wasn't sure what would happen, but he knew a life with Theresa would never be ordinary._

_He just hated that his happiness would come at the expense of Gwen's. _

_He almost wondered if she had an idea of what was coming. When he came home last night and found her there, he'd tried to tell her the truth. Yet before he could begin, Gwen rushed off to her mother's house. She'd seemed upset. Oh, she tried to hide it, but he could tell. He just didn't know what to do about it._

_The phone rang, interrupting Ethan's thoughts. He picked it up, hoping to hear Theresa's voice. He hadn't talked to her all day, though he had talked to her the night before. Luis had planned a family night, so he didn't get to see her, but she'd managed to call once everyone else had gone to bed._

_Her voice had been so small at first, afraid of what she would find out once she talked to him. Yet her relief was evident once she heard that Gwen wasn't there. Apparently, Gwen had suggested to Theresa that she had planned a romantic evening. _

_"Ethan Crane."_

"Ethan, it's Gwen."

_Ethan frowned. Gwen's voice sounded so strange…so strained. "Hi Gwen."_

"Ethan, I need to see you right away. Meet me at your house."

_"Gwen, is there something wrong?" _

"I'll tell you when you get here."

_"I'm on my way," Ethan replied before hanging up the phone._

_Closing a file folder, he muttered to himself, "It looks like the inevitable is about to happen."_

* * *

_A sense of dread filled Ethan as he walked into the Crane Mansion. If only there was another way. If only he didn't have to hurt Gwen._

_Walking up the stairs to his bedroom, Ethan hesitated outside of the door. He knew that once he walked in, things would never be the same again. Taking a deep breath, he found the courage to open the door finally. _

_What he found surprised him. Gwen sat on the edge of the bed with a laptop computer, crying. Gwen was not a woman prone to emotional outbursts. In fact, her father was always saying that his Gwenie was as cool as a cucumber._

She knows_, Ethan thought._

_He sat next to her and smoothed her hair. "Gwen?"_

_Gwen looked up at Ethan, tears streaming down her face. "I trusted her, Ethan. I trusted her! I thought she was my friend!"_

_Ethan frowned. Theresa had promised that she would let him tell Gwen that they had fallen in love. "Theresa told you?"_

_Gwen shook her head. "God no! Theresa didn't tell me anything. She didn't have to. How could she, Ethan? And how could you fall for it? For that matter, how could I fall for it?"_

_"Wait, Gwen. Back up. Start at the beginning."_

_"I came here earlier today, hoping you would be here, but you weren't. We just haven't had the chance to spend any time together…I-I noticed Theresa's laptop computer. Since you weren't around and neither was she, I thought I would look over some of the work she's done for the wedding. I went to click on the wedding icon, but accidentally hit the icon for her diary. You know how tricky those sensory pads on laptops can be." Gwen took a deep breath. "I know I shouldn't have read anything, but when I saw my name and yours, I was curious."_

_"You read Theresa's diary?" Ethan asked incredulously. _

_Gwen nodded. "I know I shouldn't have done it, but I won't apologize for it. If I hadn't, I never would have known what a manipulative little gold digger and tramp Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald is."_

_"Gwen, please don't talk about her like that. We never intended to fall in love. It just happened." He sighed. "I didn't want you to find out like that, but now that you have, I need you to listen carefully. We need to talk about this."_

_Gwen shook her head. "You don't understand. She played us _both_." She reached out and touched his face soothingly. "I don't blame you, Ethan. You're as much of a victim here as I am. Perhaps even more."_

_"What are you talking about?"_

_"Theresa was using you, Ethan. She was using you for her amusement and for your money. She wants a better life for herself, and she knows that you can give it to her."_

_"I don't believe that for one minute!" Ethan said standing. _

_"Ethan, I saw it with my own eyes! I saw the words that she wrote!"_

_Ethan felt his heart drop. He wouldn't believe it. He couldn't believe it. "Then you don't know what you saw, Gwen! Theresa wouldn't do that!"_

_Gwen picked up the laptop and handed it to Ethan. "Will you trust what you see with your own eyes, Ethan? I am telling the truth! She tricked us both." With that, Gwen walked out of the room._

_Ethan watched her go as he held the laptop in his hands. He hesitated. Should he read? He hated to violate Theresa's privacy, but Gwen had been so certain._

_Silently, he walked to his desk, set the computer on it, and sat down. Opening it up and looking at the screen, he clicked on the diary icon. "Forgive me for this, Theresa."_

**November 26, 1999**

**Dear Diary,**

**It was so nice of Mrs. Crane to give me this laptop computer! Of course, now I can take my work with me everywhere I go. I would never be able to afford one of these right now. It must've cost a fortune! But someday I will. I'll have anything that I want when I'm Mrs. Ethan Crane. Ethan is my ticket.**

**And it looks like you have a new home, Diary. It's so much faster to type than to write things out by hand. Only you know everything, Diary. Not even Whitney knows everything. I think that one day it will be fun to look back and see what I was feeling.**

**So let's start off everything the right way. It's been no secret to you that I have plans for Ethan. He's just perfect for this. I've never known anyone like him. A lot of other men in his situation in life would be snobby or even try to take advantage of women, but that's not him. Of course, that makes him more vulnerable to me.**

**There is no doubt in my mind that there is a connection between us. I keep trying to tell him that I have feelings for him, but he just doesn't get it. When we were at the ballet, he thought that I was talking about someone else. That's okay-for now. Maybe he'll find me more desirable if he thinks that other men want me.**

**Gwen is suspicious of me. She thinks that I'm after Ethan. Smart girl. Too bad no one will believe her by the time I'm done. **

**It's just too easy…**

_Ethan's eyes grew wide. Surely this was a mistake. This couldn't be right. _

_He continued reading._

**January 1, 2000**

**It's all my fault! Papa is dead because of me. I kept praying to God that something would happen so that I wouldn't have to show up to dinner without a boyfriend…so that Gwen and Ethan wouldn't know and ruin my plans. But I never intended for this to happen! It's all my fault. All my fault.**

_"There was never a boyfriend? Then what about Chuck? What was that all about?"_

**January 4, 2000**

**It wasn't Papa! It was just some man claiming to be my father. I can't even begin to describe how happy I am! Papa could still be out there somewhere!**

**Luis is so relieved. I'd never seen him so upset as when he thought it was Papa who died. **

**And Mama…she still holds out hope that Papa will come home. She lights the candles for Papa and Antonio each night. Someday, they will come back. I just know it.**

**Amidst all the happiness, there is one dark spot: Gwen Hotchkiss. I cannot believe the nerve of that woman! She tried to use what we thought was my father's funeral to turn Ethan against me. She came so close to ruining my plans. Thank heavens Whitney came to the rescue. **

**The look on Gwen's face when Father Lonigan gave me the message that my boyfriend had called was priceless. She still didn't want to believe it, though. It made her look like such a bitch in front of Ethan. I had to stop myself from laughing at her and at Ethan, too. He might be cute, but sometimes he is so gullible.**

**With that said, I've thought about my New Year's resolutions.**

**Make Ethan mine. **

**Be able to give Mama fine things. **

_Ethan swallowed hard. He could feel his heart sinking. His sweet Theresa…who was she?_

**January 15, 2000**

**Dear Diary,**

**Whitney came to my rescue again! I thought for certain that I was a goner! How she manages to do these things, I'll never know. But she is the best friend a girl could ever have!**

**I thought for certain that I was going to have to tell Ethan that he was the one that I "loved"…not some phantom boyfriend. I was actually about to tell the truth when a handsome young man showed up and kissed me. Whitney got one of the guys that she plays tennis with to pretend to be my boyfriend! His name was Chuck.**

**Gwen was suspicious at first, but I think that we convinced her.**

**Chuck was really nice, and I think that he liked me, but I've got to keep myself focused. Ethan Crane is a much better prize than Chuck Wilson.**

**February 7, 2000**

**Ethan and I went to the jewelry store to look at rings today, Diary. When I saw the beautiful engagement ring he slipped on my finger, I got chills. I'd never seen such a huge diamond. I could almost imagine that I was the one he was asking to marry. **

**Someday.**

**But the most amazing thing happened. When I tried to take it off, it wouldn't come off! It's fate that it stay on **_**my**_** finger. Gwen keeps hinting about a ring, though. If she sees that I have her ring on my finger, she is going to be furious. She might even break up with Ethan. Wouldn't that be perfect?**

**February 14, 2000**

**Dear Diary,**

**It's Valentine's Day. The ring finally came off, and Ethan proposed to Gwen. He kept thanking me over and over for saving his relationship with her. I have a hard time believing that a ring would make or break a relationship, though. How secure is Gwen if she is **_**demanding**_** that Ethan give her a ring? **

**Time is slipping away from me. I can't let this wedding take place.**

**February 25, 2000**

**Gwen wants me to be her wedding planner! Oh, this is perfect! Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer. **

**Ethan will be mine, one way the other.**

**March 19, 2000**

**I was talking to Jessica today and she told me that Noah was planning on coming home for spring break. I am so excited! I feel as though I haven't seen Noah in forever, and I could use a little TLC.**

**When I mentioned this to Ethan, he seemed a little distracted by it. He knows that Noah was my first boyfriend…and the first boy I ever kissed. Of course, I never told him that Noah Bennett was my first lover. There are some things that Ethan just shouldn't know. He thinks that I am a virgin and the epitome of innocence. I'll just let him keep thinking that.**

_Theresa had been with someone else? Ethan hated the idea of her with anyone else. How could she lie to him like that? _

**March 23, 2000**

**Dear Diary,**

**I saw Noah tonight. It was just like old times…as if he never went away. We fell into our old habits of telling stupid jokes and teasing each other. He kissed me…and one thing led to another. **

**Being with Noah this time was even better than the last. Maybe it was just the danger of it all. We slept together in Luis's bed. Mama was working late at the Cranes' mansion and Luis was protecting Sheridan, so there were no interruptions.**

**It's a good thing that Noah is going back to school soon. Otherwise, it would be even more difficult to pull this act off. If I knew that he was around but I couldn't be with him…it would drive me crazy. **

**Gwen is in New York working on a business merger for her father. She's apparently quite astute with business matters. I suppose that is her forte while design is mine. I know that Ethan misses her, but he's also a little frustrated that she's been so hands-off in planning the wedding. That's okay. It works to my advantage.**

**Ethan and I have been spending a lot of time together, and I feel as though this connection we have is getting even stronger. Ethan is a good man, so it shouldn't be long before he does something about it and tells Gwen the truth. My guess is that this wedding between Ethan and Gwen will never happen.**

**April 3, 2000**

**Noah is leaving to go back to school tomorrow. I'm going to miss him.**

**May 3, 2000**

**Dear Diary,**

**Being with Ethan at the cabin yesterday was perfect. The last time we were there, it was a place filled with happiness and laughter. I'll never forget being snowed in with Ethan, Whitney, and Chad. I saw a side of him those days that few people have seen. I'll never forget his terrible Italian accent or his silly Elvis impersonation. I did enjoy singing with him, though. I was so certain that he would kiss me.**

**I now know that he loves me. Things couldn't be better.**

**This time around at the cabin was different, though. I've never seen such a look of hurt and disappointment in a person's eyes. Strangely enough, I found myself wishing I could take that pain away. I can't imagine what it must be like to know… I suppose it's best to not even write it. Not even to you, Diary. But the secret that we share could change everyone's lives forever. How can I use that to my advantage?**

_Ethan shut off the computer, unwilling to read anymore. He knew enough. It had all been lies! If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn't have believed it._

_Every moment they'd spent together had been part of a plan. _

_All of it was lies._

_All of it was an act._

_Her innocence was non-existent. _

_Her so-called "love" for him was counterfeit. _

_She'd made him believe in her, but it wasn't the _real_ her._

_She had manipulated him over and over._

_She made him jeopardize his relationship with the one person who had been true in his life. _

_Ethan was angry._

_And he was hurt._

_God how he hurt!_

_He stood and walked to the nightstand next to his bed. Opening the drawer, he pulled out a picture of Theresa and him, taken in Bermuda. They'd been so happy there. So happy._

_Angrily, he tore the picture into small pieces and let them drop to the floor. _

_He sank to his knees and leaned against the bed. How could this be happening? He loved Theresa. He had planned on spending the rest of his life with her! How could she use him? How could she play him for a fool?_

_Gwen had been right. Over and over, she had voiced her suspicions, but he'd refused to listen. He simply couldn't believe that Theresa was a liar. _

_But now…now the evidence was irrefutable. It came from Theresa herself._

_He touched his face. It was wet. He hadn't even realized that he'd been crying, but now the tears were starting to blind him._

_Angrily, he wiped them away. "No. No. I'm not going to cry over you. You aren't worth it."_

_But she _was_ worth it._

_A few minutes later, Ethan walked down the stairs of the Crane Mansion. He knew what he had to do._

_Gwen was waiting there for him._

_When she saw the look on his face, she silently walked to him and embraced him. She held him so tightly and so comfortingly, but he couldn't seem to take comfort in her._

_"Ethan, I'm so sorry," Gwen whispered._

_"I'm sorry, too, Gwen."_

_She stepped back from him and touched his face. "I love you, Ethan. No matter what. We can work through this."_

_"Gwen, I can't talk about this right now. I have to go." _

_Ethan began walking toward the door._

_As he opened the door, Gwen called out to him, "She'll just deny everything. You know that, don't you?"_

_Without turning around, he replied, "I know."_

* * *

_Ethan took a deep breath before knocking on the door of the Lopez-Fitzgerald home. It was time to end the charade once and for all._

_When the door finally opened, Ethan saw Theresa's brother Miguel standing there. Ethan looked over his shoulder and could see Kay Bennett sitting in the living room._

_"Is Theresa here?" Ethan asked._

_Miguel's features showed his surprise. Theresa had always talked about Ethan and how they would be together, but Miguel never thought that any of it could come true. But here Ethan was…looking for his sister._

_"No, she's not. She said something about going to the park and sketching," Miguel replied._

_"Thank you," Ethan replied crisply before walking back to his car._

_It only took a few minutes to get to Harmony Park, but those few minutes seemed like an eternity to Ethan. He almost felt as though he was watching a video in slow motion, but it was his life. _

_When he arrived at the park, he headed toward what he knew to be Theresa's favorite spot under an old oak tree. Sure enough, that's where she was. She sat under its shade with her sketching pad and pencil in hand. Her eyes were closed, and she had a dreamy expression on her face. She looked perfectly content. _

_Ethan could almost believe that he had been wrong. How he desperately wanted to be wrong! But he knew he couldn't be. _

_As he began his approach, Theresa heard his footsteps. Opening her eyes, a wide smile formed on her face. "Ethan!" she squealed with glee._

_She tossed her sketching pad aside and leaped up, throwing her arms around his neck. Her lips met his softly._

_For a brief instant Ethan forgot himself. He kissed her, tasted her, trying to memorize each touch, trying to memorize how it felt to hold her in his arms. _

But it had all been a lie.

_Ethan reached up where her arms encircled him and grabbed her wrists, pushing her away._

_Theresa looked up at him, confusion in her eyes. "Ethan, what's wrong?" she asked._

_"When were you going to tell me, Theresa?" he asked._

_Theresa shrank back at hearing the forcefulness of his voice. "I-I don't understand. Tell you what?"_

_He smiled bitterly. "About the lies. Every word that has come from your mouth has been a lie, and I have been a damn fool for believing them."_

_Theresa felt the world spinning around her. He knew! He knew that Chuck never was her boyfriend! He knew that she'd always loved him! _

_She was startled, speechless._

_"Aren't you at least going to try to deny it?" he asked harshly._

_Tears welled up in her eyes. "Ethan, you're no fool. I did lie to you about Chuck, and I did lie to you about how long I've cared for you. But the one thing I never lied about is how I feel for you."_

_She touched his arm and he jerked away._

_"Don't, Theresa. Just don't."_

_"No, Ethan! I have to! Don't you see? I love you with all of my heart! With everything in me, I love you! You _are _my everything!" _

_"More lies, Theresa? How original."_

_Her heart pounded quickly in her chest. "What can I do, Ethan? What can I do to make you understand? I was afraid, Ethan. So afraid!"_

_"There's nothing you can say. What you can do for me now is listen." _

_He swallowed hard and felt the blood drain from his face. _

_Blue eyes met brown, and the disbelief and anger in him spoke, "Listen to me, and remember what I say. I don't want to see you again. I don't want to hear from you again. You will not write. You will not call. If you see me coming, you will go the other way. You will __**never**__ bother me again." His voice had an unearthly calm, but his hurt and anger were evident. _

_She cringed, and her brown eyes filled with fresh tears, threatening to spill over. "Ethan, if you'll just hear me out, I know we can clear this up. I know-"_

_He cut her off. "Why should I? I can't believe a word you say."_

_She smiled sadly, "I still believe in you." With that, she turned and walked away._

_Ethan drew in a deep breath. She'd spoken those words to him at the cabin. Those were the words that had given him such comfort. He felt as though he was being turned inside out. _

_Ethan watched her go, feeling as though she was taking his heart with her. He could see her body was wracked with sobs, but he dared not follow her. It was better to have a clean break._

_Why did it have to hurt so much? _

_He looked to the sky. The sun that had been so prominent only a few moments earlier was now tucked behind dark clouds. _How appropriate_, he thought as he felt tears begin to sting his eyes._

_He walked to the tree where she'd been sitting; the sketch pad was still face-down where she'd left it. Picking it up, he looked at what she'd been working on. _

_It was a sketch of him._

* * *

"Mr. Crane," Joseph said, his voice coming over the intercom, "we'll be arriving in New York City shortly."

"Thank you," Ethan replied quietly.

He'd been completely lost in thought, unaware of how much time had passed.

He sighed. "Why do you still have this hold over me, Theresa? Why?"

That last moment between them had haunted his dreams for years. Always, she was beyond his reach. Always.

_I still believe in you._

How he'd wanted to believe in her, too.


	45. Chapter 45

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Notes: Thanks so much for the reviews. I truly appreciate those of you who take the time to read and comment.

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Five: Answers**

As Ethan stepped into the car awaiting him outside of LaGuardia Airport, he looked about him. It had been some time since he'd been to New York City. It was such a vast change from Harmony. It brought to mind stories that Theresa told him the night before about her experiences in New York.

_Theresa_.

He wondered what type of day she was having. She was desperate for answers. Truth be told, Ethan was desperate to know some answers, as well. If Chuck was alive, it would be time to truly give up on his dream.

He intended to find those answers.

After instructing his driver to take him to the Coroner's Office, Ethan settled back in his seat and admired the view. There was just something about big cities. Though Ethan preferred smaller towns, like Harmony, he had to admit that there was a frenetic energy about the Big Apple. He was starting to understand how Theresa must have found it both exciting and terrifying.

About thirty minutes later, the car pulled in front of the Coroner's Office. Ethan grabbed his briefcase before exiting the vehicle. Making his way up several stairs, he entered through the large glass doors of the building.

As he walked in, a plump woman in her mid-forties greeted him. "Mr. Crane, I presume?"

"Yes," Ethan replied.

She held out her hand. "Hi. I'm Ginny Richardson."

Ethan took her hand. "Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise. If you'll come with me, Dr. Higdon is expecting you. He was in charge of the case in question."

"Very well," Ethan replied as she began leading him down a long corridor.

They stopped in front of an elevator. After the door opened and they stepped inside, Mrs. Richardson pressed the button for the fourth floor. After she did so, she looked at Ethan.

"Mr. Crane, I realize that this might be inappropriate of me to say, but I must confess to a certain curiosity about you."

Ethan was taken aback. He couldn't imagine why. "You're curious about me? Why?"

She smiled shyly. "Your family is practically American royalty, both on your father's side and on your mother's side. I'm originally from Castleton, and I remember when your grandfather was governor. Even though I was very young, I could tell that George Winthrop was a man who commanded authority."

Ethan frowned. He didn't know much about his maternal grandfather. George Winthrop died when Ethan was very young, and his mother didn't speak of him often. The impression that Ethan had was that their relationship was greatly strained after his mother married Julian. Ethan now knew that it was because his grandfather had forced his mother into a loveless marriage. Ivy was still resentful.

"You know, I read things in the paper," she said conspiratorially. "I hear that a political career on the national level might be in your future. I know that you already sit on the city council in your home town."

"We'll see," Ethan replied elusively.

"Already a politician. That was a noncommittal answer if ever I heard one," Mrs. Richardson said with a chuckle.

"I'm getting practice," Ethan replied.

The doors came open.

"Right this way," she said.

They continued walking down the corridor. Finally, they came to a stop outside of a wooden door with Dr. Hidgon's nameplate.

"This is as far as I go. Once again, it was nice to meet you, Mr. Crane."

"Same here, Mrs. Richardson," Ethan replied. He watched her stroll down the hall before knocking on the door.

It was time for some answers.

* * *

Theresa opened the door.

"Drew! I wasn't expecting to see you!" she exclaimed when she saw Drew Winthrop in her doorway. Things had suddenly become very complicated.

"When you didn't show up for our jog this morning, I was worried," he replied. "May I come in?"

"Of course," Theresa said stepping aside.

Drew casually strolled in and Theresa closed the door behind him.

"Where were you this morning?"

"I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. When I awoke this morning, I just didn't have it in me to go running."

Drew raised an eyebrow. "Everyone deserves a day off now and then."

Absently, she nodded.

Drew couldn't help but notice her strange mood. "Theresa, is there something wrong?"

"Yes. No…I don't know," she said sitting on her sofa. "Do you ever feel as though you're finally getting everything pulled together in your life and then-BAM!-something happens that makes you question what you think you know?"

Drew thought back to seeing Ethan answer the door to her house earlier when he realized that his brother had spent the night with her. "You'd be surprised," he replied wryly. "Has something changed, Theresa?"

"Maybe. Oh, I don't know!" she sighed in frustration. "I guess I'm not making much sense today, am I?"

Theresa studied Drew, uncertain as to whether she should tell him everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours; everything that had started to make her question what it was she thought she knew.

"Maybe we can make sense of this together," Drew suggested.

Nervously, she bit her bottom lip. "I wish it were that simple," she replied. "I don't know if I'm coming or going. It's as if I'm falling into this huge abyss, trying to find something to grab onto."

Drew sat next to her and took her hands. "Let yourself fall, Theresa. I'll catch you."

He pulled her close, and she rested her head against his chest. "I'm glad you're here," she said softly.

He kissed the top of her head. "Me too, Theresa."

With his arms around her, she felt safe. She looked up at him. "I need to tell you something, Drew. It's going to sound extraordinary, but it's the truth."

"Shoot."

"After I got home last night, I went running. I just had so much on my mind. When I returned from running, I had two messages on my answering machine. One was from my sister Paloma. The other was from Chuck."

"What! Chuck Wilson? Theresa, that isn't possible! He's dead."

"That's what we've all thought, Drew. But it was his voice and he was pleading for me not to believe that he is gone. He told me that he still loves me. The message cut off abruptly. He said 'they' were coming."

"How did that make you feel?"

"Happy…and scared. Drew, if Chuck is still alive, that would change everything."

"Theresa, it has to be some kind of trick," Drew replied. And he could imagine just who would be behind such a machination.

"Maybe. Maybe not. But it was his voice! I-I could never forget it. Drew, I never saw his body. I didn't see it at the morgue, and I didn't see it at the funeral service. What if he is out there and he's in some type of trouble?"

Drew frowned. "I'm sorry, Theresa, but that's a big 'if.'"

She sighed. "You sound like Ethan."

"Just what exactly does Ethan Crane have to do with this?" Drew asked.

"I was so frantic last night. I ran out of the house to the police precinct looking for my brother. He wasn't there, but I did run into Ethan. He brought me home and took care of me."

_I'll just bet he did. _

"But when we got back, the message was gone. It was so surreal."

"Are you sure you weren't hearing what you wanted to hear?"

Theresa pulled away from him and glared. "I _know_ what I heard, Drew. I didn't imagine this!"

He held up his hand. "All right. I believe you. The call did come. What happened to the message?"

She frowned and rubbed her head. "I must have erased it accidentally. I was in such a hurry, and I didn't have my head on straight."

"But Ethan was there to help you."

Theresa couldn't help but notice the shadow that crossed Drew's features. "Yeah. He was."

"Must've sent Gwen into a tizzy," he muttered.

Theresa sighed. "Probably so. He couldn't get hold of her, though. She was upset with him because I showed up at his office yesterday."

"Why would you do that?"

Theresa stood and began pacing. "Things are just so complicated between us. I just…" She paused, searching for the right words. "Ethan was such a huge part of my life. Then suddenly he wouldn't have anything to do with me. You know that I lied to him about how long I had feelings for him, and I lied to him about having a boyfriend. He knows that, too. It's just that I get the feeling that there's something _more._"

Drew took in a breath. He had to admit that he felt sorry for Theresa. She had no idea of what Rebecca and Gwen had done to secure Gwen's position as Mrs. Ethan Crane. Neither did Ethan, for that matter.

For the life of him, Drew couldn't understand the appeal of his sanctimonious brother to women. He was so dull!

"Why does it matter what Ethan thinks? Done is done, Theresa."

"It just does, Drew. If you had ever loved someone, you would understand what I mean. Even though we aren't together and we aren't going to be, it still bothers me that he thinks I was intentionally trying to hurt him."

"Do you still love him?"

The seconds ticked away as Drew waited for her to respond. It seemed like an eternity before she finally responded.

"It's _complicated_."

"It's a yes or no question, Theresa."

"It also happens to be none of your business!" she snapped.

"I think you just answered my question," he replied.

"Fine. You want to know? I'll tell you because I have nothing to hide, Drew. I will always care about Ethan. He was my first love, and that doesn't go away. But I was dreaming to think that anything could come from it. Our love was blind. Unrealistic. This is real life, not a fairy tale." She shook her head. "How did this conversation become about Ethan?"

Drew ignored her question. "But you still want the fairy tale."

"Who doesn't?" she whispered.

"I don't." Drew stood and walked to Theresa, encircling her waist with his arms. Pulling her close, he whispered, "There's no room for the villain."

She looked up at him. "Is that what you are?"

"Some people would say so," he replied. "What do you say, Theresa?"

"I've played that role before….at least in some people's eyes. But as for you, Drew, I say that you don't give yourself enough credit. You've told yourself for so long that you're not a good person, so you have a hard time believing it when people think that you are."

"There are a lot of things about me that you don't know," he whispered into her ear.

"Then tell me."

"You'll find out," he replied.

She was about to ask him what he meant when the phone rang. Startled, she jumped. Could it be Chuck?

* * *

"Dr. Higdon, thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice," Ethan said when the bald man opened the door. "I'm Ethan Crane."

"It was no problem, Mr. Crane. How is your father getting on? He and I go way back to our college years."

"He's doing well. Still as ornery as ever."

"And your mother? Is she still tolerating him?" Dr. Higdon asked with a chuckle.

"You could say that," Ethan replied guardedly.

"Good. Good. When we spoke on the phone, you asked about the Charles Parris Wilson III case."

"Yes," Ethan replied.

Dr. Higdon walked behind his desk and took a seat. He indicated a plush leather chair across from him and Ethan took it.

"It was basically an open and shut case. Nothing extraordinary about his death. Just massive head trauma as a result of a head-on collision. In fact, I probably wouldn't have even remembered it if…" His voice trailed off, and he seemed lost in thought.

"If what, Dr. Higdon?"

"Well, he had a pretty little fiancée. I think their wedding date was very close. I just remember that she had the most beautiful brown eyes, but I'll never forget the haunted look I saw in them. We had called her to identify the body, but Mr. Wilson's mother showed up before she did and made the identification. Under the circumstances, we decided that if it wasn't necessary, she didn't need to see the body. And it just wasn't necessary."

"Theresa." Ethan shuddered to think of how it must have been for her.

"Yes, I think that was her name."

"What can you tell me about the accident itself?"

"Well, Mr. Crane, I can't give you all the details. You'd have to check the police report for that. I can only tell you of the results."

"You mentioned a massive head trauma."

Dr. Higdon passed the coroner's report to Ethan. Ethan opened the folder and grimaced when he saw the detailing of the injuries.

"As you can see, there was nothing that could be done for him. I hate to say it because as a doctor I took an oath to save lives, but this poor devil…he's lucky that he _didn't_ survive. His injuries were so severe, we couldn't even recognize him with any certainty by comparing the body with his license photo."

"Then how do you know that it _was_ Chuck Wilson?"

"Mr. Crane, the body was pulled from Mr. Wilson's car. The body had Mr. Wilson's wallet and identification. Mr. Wilson's mother was able to identify him. If she hadn't been sure, this would be a John Doe file that you're looking at. But she told us that beyond a shadow of a doubt, it was her son. Based on her assertion, as well as the other evidence, why would we have reason to think that it was anyone else? Like I said, it was an open and shut case."

_Except it's not open and shut when there is someone making calls claiming to be Chuck Wilson_, Ethan thought.

"Thank you for your time, Dr. Higdon. Would it be all right if I took a copy of this file?"

"Well, usually we don't allow copies of coroner's files to be taken out of the office, but I think we can make an exception for you, Mr. Crane."

"Thank you," Ethan replied.

A few minutes later, he was in front of the building once again. As he stepped into the car waiting for him, he couldn't help but feel uneasy. Theresa was being set up for a fall. But why? What could anyone gain by making her think that Chuck was still alive? It was just so cruel!

"Where to, Mr. Crane?"

"Back to the airport," Ethan replied. The car started moving, and Ethan began to look through the file again. A few moments later he spoke again, "On second thought, Henry, there is another stop I want to make before returning to Harmony." He pulled out his planner and read an address. "1453 Gardener Drive, Scarsdale."

"Very well, Mr. Crane."

Ethan leaned back in the seat and rubbed his weary eyes.

_I have to make sure. I can't go back and tell Theresa that there's no hope without exhausting every possibility._

Henry interrupted Ethan's thoughts. "Mr. Crane, if you don't mind me asking, who lives at this address?"

"Emmaline Wilson," Ethan replied.

The old butler looked upon Ethan sourly. "Do you have an appointment with Mrs. Wilson?"

"No," Ethan replied.

"Then I can't help you," the old man said as he began to close the door.

Ethan wedged his foot between the door and the doorframe. "I think she'll see me. My name is Ethan Crane."

Recognition showed on the older man's face. "One moment please."

Ethan groaned. He hadn't expected it to be so hard to see Mrs. Wilson. He knew her family was prominent in the New York set, but this was ridiculous.

A minute later, the door swung open with the butler standing to its side. "This way please, Mr. Crane. Mrs. Wilson will see you in her parlor."

The butler guided him through a maze of corridors. Finally, he stopped before large, wooden, double doors. He pushed them open. "Mrs. Wilson, Ethan Crane to see you."

"Thank you, Gerard. That will be all."

Ethan walked in and saw a rather formidable woman sitting in a Louis XV style chair in front of the fireplace. Her eyes studied him. "So _you're_ Ethan Crane." Her voice had an air of haughtiness and something else. Disdain, perhaps.

Ethan furrowed his brows, not liking the woman's tone. "You make it sound as though it's a bad thing."

She laughed, but the laughter did not meet her eyes. "In this house, it _is_ a bad thing. I know all about you, Ethan Crane. I know how you broke a young girl's heart. Your loss was my son's gain, though."

"That was a long time ago," Ethan replied quietly.

"Old wounds don't heal so easily," Emmaline replied. "I should know. Have a seat, won't you?"

"Thank you."

"What brings you here today, Ethan Crane? I can't imagine that we have anything to talk about."

Ethan felt annoyance begin to rise within him over her rudeness, but when he reminded himself of why she treated him thusly, he could forgive it. "You care for Theresa very much, don't you?"

"She made my son very happy, and she gave him focus. Theresa is very important to me. I don' t want to see anyone hurt her. And you still haven't answered me. Why are you here today?"

"Because I am concerned that someone _is_ trying to hurt her, Mrs. Wilson."

Emmaline shifted in her chair. "How so?"

"Someone called her house last night, claiming to be Chuck. She says that it sounded just like him. Whoever it was made it seem as though he was in trouble and needed Theresa's help. Now she believes that it is possible that your son is out there somewhere. There is no easy way to ask this question, Mrs. Wilson, and I hate to even do so, but are you sure that the body you identified was your son's?"

Emmaline stood and walked to the window. "Damn whoever is doing this. Damn them to hell." She looked back at Ethan. "Forgive my unladylike outburst. I just can't believe that someone would do such a despicable thing."

"Mrs. Wilson, is there any possibility…any possibility at all…that you might have made a mistake with the identification?"

"No, Ethan Crane. There was no mistake." Her blue eyes filled with tears, but she refused to shed them. "My Charles was a very spoiled, unfocused young man until Theresa came into his life. It sounds so trite to say this, but she was a ray of sunshine in his otherwise dim existence. You asked how I knew it was my son."

She paused for a moment before continuing. "Shortly after they were engaged, Charles and Theresa drove to upstate New York to a small county fair. While there, she won him a rather silly looking plastic wedding ring. He promised to wear it until his wedding day…until he had the real thing on his finger. They were so foolish for each other.

"The night that I went to the morgue to identify his body, I'll admit that it was difficult to recognize my son. He was so," her voice broke, "changed." She took a deep breath before continuing. "But I looked down at his left hand. The ring was there."

"Dear God," Ethan muttered.

It was a ruse. Someone was trying to set Theresa up in the cruelest way possible. But why?

_How am I going to tell her? _

"So you see, Ethan Crane, there is no way that my Charles is still out there. Even if something completely unlikely would have happened…such as Charles being robbed and the thief taking his car, clothes, and identification, you have to realize that no thief would take a cheap, plastic ring won at a county fair."

* * *

"You okay?" Drew asked.

"F-fine. I should get that," she replied.

Walking into the kitchen, she picked up the phone there.

"Hello?"

_"Theresita, this is Paloma."_

"Paloma. Hi." Theresa tried not to sound disappointed, but she couldn't hide it. She had been hoping from some word about her answering machine or word from the telephone company…or word from Chuck.

_"Is everything bien? When you called last night, you weren't yourself. Does this have anything to do with Ethan Crane?"_

"No. It has nothing to do with him. I just got a strange phone call last night. He was here to help me out. That's all."

_"Who was it?"_

"It's a long story, Paloma."

_"What are you hiding, Theresa?"_

"I'm not hiding anything."

_"Are you sure? Hermana, are you and Ethan having an affair?"_

"Good heavens, no! You know me better than that. You know that when Ethan and I were together, we never…well, _you know_. He is married to Gwen, and I respect that."

_"Then what is wrong?"_

"Nothing. I'm just tired. Paloma, I need to go. I have company."

_"Is it Ethan?"_

"No, it isn't Ethan. It's my…. friend…. Drew."

_"I'm sorry. I couldn't hear you. Did you say his name was Andrew?"_

"No. Not Andrew… just Drew. He goes by Drew."

Theresa paused, remembering what Ethan had said earlier about his brother Andrew being in town.

Was it possible?

No. That was ridiculous.

Wasn't it?

_"Gracias a Dios." Paloma muttered._

"Why do you say that?"

_"I'm just praying that this Drew can make you forget all the heartache that Ethan and Chuck left behind."_

Theresa sighed. "It wasn't Chuck's fault."

_"That doesn't make the pain go away, now does it? I'm just glad that you're getting on with you life, Theresita. You deserve to be happy."_

Theresa frowned. _Am I getting on with my life? I still have so many ties to the past._

"I need to go, Paloma."

_"I know. I love you."_

"I love you, too. _Hasta luego_." With that, Theresa turned off the phone and set it down on the counter.

She stood there for a minute and looked at Drew. Once again, she was struck by his familiarity.

_Why do you seem so familiar to me, Drew Winthrop? _

She played his name over in her mind. _Drew Winthrop_.

Andrew Winthrop.

Andrew Crane?

Wasn't 'Winthrop' Ivy Crane's maiden name?

No, surely he would have told her if he was related to the Cranes. Wouldn't he?

Drew noticed her stare and asked, "Theresa, is everything okay?"

She frowned. "Who are you really, Drew Winthrop?"


	46. Chapter 46

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Notes: Thanks so much for the reviews. I truly appreciate those of you who take the time to read and comment.

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Six: Gentle**

_How am I going to do it?_

Ethan sighed as he leaned back in his cushioned seat on the Crane jet and closed his eyes.

He didn't even know where to start.

Though Theresa had no idea that he was flying to New York to find answers, Ethan knew he also knew that he couldn't keep what he had learned from her. Based on what the coroner stated both in person and in his report, as well as what Emmaline Wilson said, there was no way that Chuck could still be alive. Someone was playing a very dangerous game. But why?

_"Be gentle, Ethan Crane."_

Mrs. Wilson's words still rang in Ethan's ears. Chuck's mother was fiercely protective of Theresa, and she made no secret of that fact. Nor did she bother to hide her disdain for him. She continually called him by his full name, using a certain inflection in her voice that reminded Ethan of Mrs. Fairgallows, headmistress of one of the boarding schools he attended as a child. It was as if she was scolding him.

_"The peril of being in our circle is that everyone thinks they know everything about everyone else. That was the case when I met Charles's Theresa," Mrs. Wilson told Ethan as she sipped her tea._

_"What do you mean? What does Theresa have to do with the conceit of our social set?"_

_"News of your little escapade with the housekeeper's daughter made the rounds shortly before your marriage to Gwen."_

_Ethan frowned. "It wasn't an escapade, Mrs. Wilson."_

_Emmaline rolled her eyes. "Regardless of what you call it, I do remember this: Rebecca Hotchkiss was fit to be tied, but she used it to her advantage. Word spread." Emmaline changed her voice mimicking Rebecca. "'Poor Gwen. She befriended the housekeeper's daughter only to find out that she was a back-stabbing gold digger. Luckily she and Ethan found out in time.' Sound familiar?"_

_Ethan looked away, disconcerted. Why was the mother of Theresa's deceased fiancé talking to him about this?_

_"Why are you so uncomfortable, Ethan Crane?" Emmaline asked. "Did you not help to propagate such tidbits?"_

_"I didn't talk about Theresa then-and I'm not going to talk about her now. Especially not to you."_

_Emmaline tilted her head to the side, studying the young man. "You certainly didn't do anything to stop those rumors, now did you? You could have prevented so much heartache for that poor girl. You know, when Charles first told me that he was bringing her home to meet me, I hated the idea of my son showing any interest in her. I was foolishly convinced that she was only after my son for his money-just like all the others. God, I cannot tell you how many opportunists have darkened my doorstep. But when I met Theresa, I knew she was different. I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Why couldn't you?"_

_Ethan stood. "You weren't in my situation, Mrs. Wilson. You could afford to be magnanimous."_

_She nodded. "That's right. Theresa did some 'great wrong' to you," Emmaline said, sarcasm flooding her tone. "At least, that's the story I hear. I can't help but feel as though the opposite it true. Do you know why she returned to Harmony?"_

_"I assume it was to be closer to her family. I got the impression that it was difficult for her to remain in New York after what happened."_

_"Maybe that's part of it, but Theresa was also doing what she said she would do. She always told Charles that she would go back and be able to hold her head high. She and I even talked about it from time to time. I tried to tell her that it didn't matter what other people thought, but it mattered to her. She went back to repair her reputation, Ethan Crane. She hated the fact that everyone thought that she was a bad person, and she hated the fact that she disappointed her mother."_

_"I know for a fact that Pilar loves Theresa very much."_

_Emmaline's steely gray eyes met Ethan's crystal blue. "I never questioned Pilar's love for her daughter. On the contrary, the people we love the most are the ones who have the ability to disappoint us the most. Is that not true, Ethan Crane?"_

_Ethan knew about disappointment. He thought back to the day he read Theresa's diary…the day he found out about her. He didn't want to believe it was true then, and he still didn't. Listening to Emmaline Wilson, he could almost imagine that it wasn't. But he'd seen Theresa's words with his own eyes. She mentioned things in her diary that no one else could have known about. _

_She did not wait for his response. "I can see you are wondering about me. You are wondering why an old woman who was the mother of Theresa's fiancé would be speaking to you about her."_

_"Yes, I am."_

_Emmaline leaned forward in her chair. "Whether I like it or not, you seem to share a connection with Theresa. You still care for her, and she still cares for you. She has for all these years. For the life of me, I can't understand why. But know this; Theresa had a tender heart. Be gentle, Ethan Crane."_

Ethan thumbed through the coroner's file. Attached to the last sheet of the report was a series of photographs; photographs from the accident site and photographs of Chuck himself. He'd promised Emmaline that Theresa would never see them. She would remember Chuck the way he was, though shielding her from that bitter taste of reality still wouldn't take away the pain she was bound to feel.

"Is there any way to be gentle when I know what I say is going to break your heart, Resa?"

* * *

"What did you say, Theresa?" Drew asked. He studied her carefully. She had the strangest expression on her face.

"I asked who you are, Drew."

"What do you mean?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I know that must've sounded as though it came from nowhere. I just get this feeling about you. You seem familiar somehow, but I know I never met you until just a few months ago. I can't quite put my finger on it."

He looked at her, amusement shining in his turquoise eyes. "Perhaps I just have 'one of those faces.'"

"We've been through this before, and that's not it. You know very well that you don't have 'one of those faces.'" She walked to him. "If I ask you something, will you promise to tell me the truth?"

"That depends," he replied with a twinkle in his eye. "What do I get in return?"

"I'm being serious, Drew," Theresa replied, her voice soft. "I just don't like certain surprises."

"Like raisin cookies when you're expecting chocolate chip."

"You remembered," she said.

He touched her face. "I remember everything you say, Theresa." He moved closer to her, his lips lightly grazing hers.

Theresa felt her heartbeat quicken as it always did whenever he was near. As much as she hated to admit it, each time she was with him, she felt their attraction grow stronger.

It scared her.

She moved away from him. "This isn't a good idea for any number of reasons."

"Such as…"

"Such as the fact that my fiancé might be out there somewhere. Or the fact that you're only trying to divert attention away from my question."

He sighed. "Okay, Theresa, what do you want to know?"

"How well do you know the Cranes?" she asked.

Drew shrugged. "I know them as well as anyone else in our social set does. Do we ever really get to _know_ each other? No, we just know each others' business, and it's mostly from word of mouth at that. I don't usually stay in one place for so long, as you know, but I hear things."

"Are you sure that's all?" Theresa asked, holding her breath, waiting for his answer.

"What else could it be?" Drew asked.

Theresa smiled in relief. "When I was talking to Ethan this morning and then when I was talking to Paloma on the phone, I had the craziest thought. I thought that perhaps you were related to the Cranes. I know this is ridiculous, but I thought that you might even be Ethan's brother. He does have a brother named Andrew."

"It's a common enough name, Theresa."

"But your last name is Winthrop. That was Ivy Crane's maiden name."

"Winthrop is a common enough name, too." The lies slipped so easily from his tongue.

"I suppose so. It was a silly thought! I should know that you would never lie about who you are. You have no reason to!"

_Oh, I have my reasons,_ he thought.

_R-r-r-r-i-i-i-n-g!_

Theresa glanced back at the phone, uneasy once again.

_R-r-r-r-i-i-i-n-g!_

"Are you going to get it?" Drew asked. "It might be important."

"I know. That's what I'm afraid of." She took a deep breath and walked back to kitchen, picking up the phone.

"Hello?"

_"May I speak to Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald please?"_

"This is she," Theresa responded to the man on the other end of the line.

_"Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald, this is Gary Livingston from the technology division of Crane Industries. I was at your home this morning. Mr. Crane gave me an answering machine and asked that I retrieve a message."_

"Have you done it?" Theresa asked hurriedly.

_"I'd prefer to speak with you about it in person. Things aren't as cut and dry as I had hoped. Would it be possible for you to come by my office at Crane Industries?"_

"Sure. When?"

_"As soon as possible. _Now_ if you can."_

"I'm on my way," Theresa replied.

_"Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald, before you go, is Mr. Crane there with you?"_

"No, he's not. I assumed that he was at work."

_"I haven't been able to get hold of him."_

"Does Ethan need to be there?"

_"No. I just thought that you might feel better if he were."_

"Do you have bad news for me, Mr. Livingston? Please just tell me!"

_"As soon as you get here, I'll elaborate. I'll see you soon."_ With that, Mr. Livingston hung up on his end.

Theresa looked over at Drew. "I have to go. That was Gary Livingston from Crane Industries. He was trying to retrieve the message from last night. He wants me to come in and see him." She looked around her. "Where did I put my purse?" She groaned. "I would lose my head if it weren't attached!"

Drew watched her hurry around the bottom floor of her house in a frenzy.

She was scared. That was painfully obvious to him.

He sighed, feeling guilty that he couldn't do anything for her and guilt for what he was about to do _to _her.

A few moments later, Theresa found her purse. She came back into the living room and grabbed Drew's hand. "Will you come with me?" she asked.

_Me? Walk into Crane Industries with Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald? That would ruin everything that I've worked toward._

He looked down into her deep brown eyes and could see fear in them. He felt utterly selfish. She needed him, but he was unwilling to do anything about it.

"I'm sorry, Theresa. I have an appointment that I just can't break."

"Oh."

He could see the disappointment on her face. They walked out of the house together, and Theresa locked the door behind her. "I'll see you later, Drew."

With that, Drew watched as she hurried ahead of him and climbed into her car.

"I wish I could help you, Theresa. But this time I have to help myself."

* * *

"Did you ever find company last night?" Drew asked as he swung open the door to Gwen's office.

Gwen looked up at her brother-in-law, glaring. "Some of us do have work to do, you know."

"Don't lecture me, Gwen. I know for a fact that you didn't get here until just a little while ago."

"What are you doing? Spying on me?" she asked with incredulity.

"Don't flatter yourself. Your personal assistant mentioned it to me."

Gwen groaned. "Get a hobby, Andrew!"

"I already have a hobby," he replied walking to her desk and sitting on the edge of it.

"What? Torturing me?" she demanded.

"Is that what I do?" he asked. "And here I thought that I was the only one willing to tell you the truth. In many ways, you could say I'm your only friend."

Gwen leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. "You? My friend? Hardly. I loathe you."

"I seem to recall that just last night you were eager to get..._friendly_…with me."

"What can I say? Familiarity breeds contempt. Call it a lapse of judgment."

"How many of those lapses of judgment have you had, Gwenie?" Drew asked.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh…_nothing_. So tell me, have you seen my brother today?"

Gwen looked at Drew, unwilling to tell him that she hadn't seen Ethan since yesterday in his office when she became angry with him. "Don't ask ridiculous questions. Of course I've seen Ethan today. I woke up next to him." She tried to sound confident.

"Really? And here I thought that he woke up next to Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald."

"Wh-why would you say such a thing?" Gwen asked, her voice small.

"I was running this morning on the beach and I saw Ethan leave her house. They looked pretty…," he paused for effect, "close. I just thought you might want to know."

"I don't believe you," Gwen stated simply.

"Oh, I think you do."

Gwen looked away from him. Her little disappearing act didn't have the impact that she'd wanted. Apparently, Ethan didn't even notice!

Drew watched Gwen carefully, biding his time before continuing. "I'm going to tell you something that I think might help."

"You? Help?"

"Yes. Help. As a man, I can tell you that there is nothing worse than a woman showing jealousy. Big turn-off."

"Who's jealous?" Gwen asked.

"Please, Gwen. I think we both know the answer to that. There's especially nothing worse than petty jealousy. Face it, Gwen. The more you act like a shrew, the better you make Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald look. She is much more of a sympathetic figure than you are. If you attack Theresa, Ethan will protect her. He's always been a sap like that."

"Ethan is a good man. That's why I love him."

"Then start showing it. The tantrums have to be getting old for Ethan…and they're getting _you_ nowhere."

Gwen leaned forward, placing her elbows on the desk, and rested her head against her hands. "I hate her! She's the one who is after _my_ husband, and _I'm _made out to be the bad guy. Unbelievable!"

"Hey, I'm just telling you what I see. You can take it or leave it."

Gwen lifted her gaze to meet his. "You're right. I've been playing right into her hands. But when I'm done with her…"

"Stop right there, Gwenie. Any vendetta you have against Theresa needs to stop now. Any plans you're hatching, let them go. You'll only alienate Ethan further and make Theresa the victim in need of a rescue all over again."

"Why do you care about my marriage all of a sudden? And why the hell do you care about what happens to Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald?"

Drew stood. "Who says I do? I would just hate to see all the hard work you and your mommy have done go to waste."

Gwen felt a chill run through her. "I told you to never bring that up again."

Drew held his hand up to his ear. "What was that you said? I couldn't quite hear you." He grinned. "Come on, Gwen. It didn't take a genius to figure out what you and your mother did to separate those two in the first place. Even though my dear brother is a little slow on the uptake, if you keep doing things to propel him toward Theresa, he will figure out what you did. And you, my dear, will be out in the cold."

"There's no proof, Andrew. As soon as Ethan went to confront Theresa, I changed the diary back to the way Theresa had it. She doesn't know it was tampered with. If Ethan were to look at the files again, he would just think that she altered them for his benefit. He'd not going to believe her."

"Right. Go ahead and tell yourself that," Drew replied rolling his eyes. "Maybe you'll even start to believe it yourself. The fact of the matter is that you were running scared then, and you're running scared now. Be smart, Gwen. Don't mess with Theresa. Don't arrange any tragic accidents or schemes to play with her head. Just don't do it."

Gwen said nothing. She seemed to be considering what Drew said.

He began to walk out of the office. "Remember what I said," he warned before closing the door behind him.

Once in the hallway he rubbed his hands together. "Hopefully, I've helped us both today, Theresa."

With that, he was on his way.

* * *

Dropping her keys, Theresa groaned. It was dark outside, and she'd forgotten to leave the light on. She felt for her keys, her eyes still adjusting to the darkness. Finding the correct key, Theresa unlocked the door to her house and walked inside. Closing the door, she leaned against it.

Fighting back the tears, she picked up Serendipity who came to her as soon as he heard the door open. She held her cat close, and he purred.

"I don't know that we'll see your daddy anytime soon," she whispered.

Her meeting with Gary Livingston played through her head. He'd been able to retrieve a portion of the recording, and he even replayed it for her, but it was quite garbled. That nixed what he had intended to do next: a voice analysis. With the degradation of the message, there was no way to do an accurate voice analysis to find out if it really had been Chuck's voice or just an excellent imitation.

"I just want to know one way or the other. But please, God, let Chuck be alive."

Theresa set Serendipity down and walked into the pantry. Pulling out a can of cat food, she refilled his bowl. As Serendipity began to nibble, she held the can away from her nose. Too late. Its fishy scent made its way to her nostrils, reminding her of her time spent working in the fish cannery. Before placing it in the trash, she wrapped the can in a plastic shopping bag. "Remind me not to buy fish flavored food again," she told him.

She leaned down and picked up his water bowl, rinsing it out before refilling it with fresh water.

"Now you're all set," she said.

Returning to the sink, she washed her hands, eager to remove any trace of cat food scent. As she was drying her hands on a dishtowel, she heard a knock at her door.

She sighed. "I'm starting to feel as though this is Grand Central Station."

Quickly, she walked to the door and opened it. She felt a huge wave of relief sweep over her when she saw who her visitor was. "Ethan!"

"Hi Theresa."

"Please come in. I-I'm glad you're here. I wanted to call you, but I didn't want to cause any problems for you."

Ethan walked into the homey living room. "You don't need to worry about that, Theresa," he replied.

She smiled weakly. "Could I get you something to drink?"

"No, thank you. I'm fine."

"Have you spoken to Mr. Livingston?" Theresa asked as she took Ethan's coat and hung it up.

"A few minutes ago. I'm sorry that it wasn't more definitive."

He watched her closely. She still had such hope in her eyes, despite everything. How could he extinguish it? But how could he not tell her where he'd been that day and what he'd been doing?

"Me too. At least I know I wasn't crazy. The call _did_ come."

"It did. The telephone company is still trying to trace it. It seems they've run into a few stumbling blocks."

"Another obstacle? What a shock," she replied dryly.

Without thinking, Ethan reached for her, resting his hand along the nape of her neck, and stared into her eyes…eyes he was in danger of losing himself in. "Theresa, we need to talk. Will you come sit with me?"

Her face fell, sensing she wasn't going to like what he had to say. She merely nodded.

Wordlessly, the duo walked to the sofa and sat together. He took her hands and held them in his own.

She could see the concern in his blue eyes. "What is it, Ethan?" Her voice came out as little more than a whisper.

"I need to tell you where I was today, Theresa. I was in New York City."

"New York? But why?"

Ethan took a deep breath. "I went to see the coroner who oversaw Chuck's case. I also spoke to Emmaline Wilson."

"Oh."

"Theresa…" he tried to find the words, his mouth becoming extremely dry.

"You're going to tell me that there is no way Chuck could have survived the accident, aren't you?" Theresa asked quietly, her brown eyes filling with tears.

"I'm sorry."

"Ethan, I was so sure it was his voice!"

"I know, Resa. I know." Ethan's heart ached at seeing her upset. He only wished that there was something he could do. "I talked to the coroner about what happened to Chuck in the accident. No one could have survived. I still had to make sure that it was him, so I talked to his mother. When she went to verify that it was Chuck, as his identification stated, she saw a plastic ring on his finger. It was something you'd given to him. And she knew."

"_Dios me ayuda, por favor_." The tears spilled over her cheeks. Ethan touched her face, gently wiping the tears away with the pad of his thumb.

"Theresa, we will find out who made the call. We will find out who this bastard is."

Her heart swelled with sadness and something else: gratitude. The last twenty-four hours had been a virtual nightmare, but the one person who had remained true and constant during that time was Ethan. She hadn't realized just how much she had missed being around him until he showed up again.

_What kind of person am I? _her mind screamed.

Theresa took a deep breath, trying to find the strength within to compose herself, to find the strength to fortify herself against her combination of grief and resurgent feelings. "Thank you for coming by, Ethan. Thank you for being my friend. I-I need to be alone now and just process all of this."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. "I'll be fine."

Ethan worried about leaving her, but he also wanted to respect her privacy. "I'll see myself out."

He stood, walked to the coat rack, and took his coat from where it hung. "Goodbye, Theresa."

"Bye Ethan," she replied softly, so softly he could barely hear her.

He walked out to his car, a nagging feeling penetrating his very being. How could he just leave her? _No, she wanted to be alone_, he reminded himself. But still….

His thoughts were interrupted when he saw her walk out the back of her house and onto the beach. He could only see her silhouette, but her body was wracked with sobs. He remembered the last time he'd seen this, and he'd turned away.

_God help me, but I don't care about the consequences anymore! I won't turn away from her this time_, he thought as he stepped out of his car.


	47. Chapter 47

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Seven: "Wicked Game"**

When Ethan reached Theresa, she was huddled in the sand, holding her knees to her chest, only a few feet away from the water. Muffled sobs escaped her throat. He knelt, embracing her from behind with his strong arms, and rocked her gently while she cried. Stroking her hair, holding her tightly, he was determined to never let go. No one would ever hurt her again.

He wasn't sure how much time passed before her crying softened. He only knew that he felt her body relax; almost melt into his.

Theresa reached down and touched his hands. Her fingers became intertwined with his. Turning to look at him, she said softly, "You came back, Ethan."

"I would never desert you. Not again."

She closed her eyes, leaning against him. It felt good to be held in his arms, even if for just a little while.

Ethan spoke. "Being here with you has reminded me of something I hadn't even thought about in a long time…something my mother told me. I know this is hard for you to believe, but once upon a time, my mother was a dreamer, a hopeless romantic. That was before years of marriage to my father hardened her."

Theresa tried to imagine the elegant, often sharp-tongued Ivy Crane as a dreamer. Indeed it was an image difficult to conjure.

Ethan continued, "When I was a little boy, Mother took my brother, my sisters, and me to our cabin in the woods and taught us about the stars. She said that looking at the constellations was a lot like connecting the dots. There are so many things to see and so many stories to be told. I'd forgotten much of what she'd told us until I met you, Resa."

Theresa sighed. The old connection between them was still there, but it had no right to exist. "It was a long time ago, Ethan. Much has changed."

"Yes, but the stars remain constant if you know where to look. We're the ones that change," he whispered into her ear. "Look over there, " he said, pointing to the southeast sky. "There's Orion, the mighty hunter. He shines for all to see, and he shines because of love."

"Will you tell me about him?"

Ethan nodded. "Orion lived when the world was still new. He was the son of the sea god Neptune and a mortal woman. He was tall, strong, handsome, and most importantly, he was a charmer. He could easily win the admiration of any living creature.

"One of his conquests was the goddess Diana, who was a renowned huntress and archer. Though in many ways they came from different worlds, Orion and Diana fell very much in love.

"Unfortunately, Diana's brother Apollo was unhappy with the match and became increasingly jealous. He waited for an opportunity to thwart their happiness.

"His opportunity came.

"One hot day Orion was walking by the sea and decided to go for a swim. As the son of the sea god, he was an exceptional swimmer and was soon far out to sea. From the shore, it was difficult to see him. The only thing visible was his head, but it only appeared as a small dot, bobbing amidst the waves.

"Soon, Diana came by, walking along the beach. Apollo, watching from Olympus, saw his chance, and flew down in his golden chariot to meet her. After exchanging a few pleasantries with his sister, Apollo asked if it was true that she was having trouble with her archery and said he noticed that her aim had been off lately. It was not unusual for the siblings to compete with each other, but this touched her on a sore spot because she prided herself upon being an excellent marksman. Diana angrily protested that this was certainly not the case, and offered to prove it to him.

"Apollo replied that of course he believed her. Cleverly he added that if a demonstration would make her feel better, she should go ahead and try. He challenged her to hit the distant dot floating in the sea.

"Diana aimed, released the arrow, and didn't miss.

"When she realized it was the body of her lover, she was distraught. She went to her father Jupiter, who was the king of all the gods, and begged him to bring Orion back. Jupiter would not, but feeling empathy for his daughter, he went a step further. He lifted Orion to the heavens so that Diana would never be without him.

"And there he is. See those three stars in a row?" Ethan asked, pointing to the sky. "Those mark his belt. The two stars above the belt mark his shoulders, and the two below mark his knees.

"He is always with her, Theresa," Ethan said gently. "I know that my words aren't adequate. They can't take away the pain you feel, but just as Orion will never be gone, Chuck won't, either. He'll be in your heart and your memories, in places reserved only for him."

"It's hard to let go, Ethan."

Ethan looked down at the woman he held in his arms. He was still drawn to her, still loved her, though he knew he shouldn't. He, better than anyone else, knew that it was hard to let go.

"I know, Baby. I know."

Something in his tone made Theresa's heart pound.

Ethan added, "It's okay to hold on, but hold on to the good things, not the bad."

"Ethan," Theresa began, but hesitated.

"Yes?"

"Was it-" _Could she even say the words?_ "Was it hard for you when I went away?" As soon as the words came from her mouth, she regretted them. "I'm sorry," she said hurriedly. "I shouldn't have asked."

What should he say? _Yes, Theresa, you left and took my heart with you_, came to mind.

"Yes, it was."

He felt a chill run through her body as he held her. Eager for a change in topic and venue, Ethan said, "I'm going to take you inside."

Theresa nodded, knowing she had made him uncomfortable. She never wanted him to let her go, but she knew this moment would have to come.

Slowly, they walked back inside, hand-in-hand.

_Ethan will leave soon_, she realized.

She didn't want him to go, but she knew the time was coming.

Ethan studied Theresa from the corner of his eyes. She seemed so lost. How he desperately wanted to see her smile. How he would do anything to _make_ her smile! Impulsively he turned to her and asked, "Theresa, what do you think of Italy?"

Theresa felt tears sting her eyes. He wasn't leaving! "It's a beautiful country. I've never been, but someday, I would like to go there."

Ethan looked at her, a twinkle in his blue eyes. "Well, we can't go to Italy tonight, but we can bring Italy to you."

Her eyes shined. "Are you serious?"

"Go upstairs. Take a nice long bath. Pamper yourself. Just leave everything else to me, Signorina," Ethan said with a playful Italian accent.

"Tell me; might Luigi be making an appearance?"

Ethan looked at her, surprise etching his features. After reading her diary those years ago, he'd been under the impression that she thought he was acting foolishly when he pretended to be Luigi, the Italian waiter. Could he have been wrong about that?

It pleased him that she asked about it.

"You never know. He's a man of mystery," Ethan replied with a wink.

She clasped her hands together. "Oh, Ethan, I-" She broke out into a wide smile. "Thank you." With that, she hurried up the stairs, eager to see just what he had planned.

Letting the bubbles wash over her, Theresa sighed. The warm water had felt heavenly, but it was starting to lose some of its heat. It had been awhile since she'd settled into the tub.

She couldn't believe all that Ethan had done-and was doing-for her.

It was wonderful, but it worried her, too. Being near him brought up so many things that she had tried to bury. At one time, he had been her everything. She knew it was ridiculous to put so much of her being into one person, but it hadn't stopped her.

Chuck had been so understanding when it came to Ethan. Theresa knew he didn't like Ethan or the other Cranes very much, but he respected her and her past ties to the Crane family.

He'd once told her, _"Our experiences shape us, Theresa, make us who we are. I might not like Ethan Crane, and I might not like what he did to you, but who you are now is partly as a result of that."_

Emmaline hadn't been so kind in her assessment of Ethan. _"He's a schmuck_!" she had once declared.

Theresa could only imagine what Ethan's encounter with Chuck's mother must have been like. She knew it must not have been pretty. Emmaline was very protective of her, just as Chuck had been.

_Chuck. _

_No, I can't do this to myself again, _she told herself as tears began to sting her eyes once more. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. _Think happy thoughts. Think about Sheridan and Luis's baby. Think about Chad and Whitney's wedding. Think about Ethan._

_No. Don't think about Ethan_, the voice of reason warned her. _It will only get you into trouble. _

She didn't want to listen, though.

After Theresa stepped out of the tub and dried off, she pulled her robe around her. She frowned. She hadn't even thought about what she would wear. What does one wear when Italy is brought to her?

As she walked into the bedroom, she noticed something. Lying across her bed was a garment bag. Funny. It hadn't been there before.

She strolled to the bed, picked up the bag, and unzipped it. She gasped when she saw it. It was simply a beautiful creation. She pulled it out and held it in front of her. Her eyes studied every aspect. It was a cream colored dress, smooth, almost seamless. To her designer's eye, the cut was extraordinarily stylish and clean, but there was also a dreamy quality about it. It was sleeveless. The front was cut high; the back was low, almost to her waist.

"I guess I'm going to Italy in style," she said, still in disbelief over the wonderful surprise.

She ran the hair dryer over her hair, and styled it with gentle waves. It fell across her shoulders and down her back. As she prepared to put on the dress, she realized that she wouldn't be wearing a bra with it because of the low-cut back. Yet as she put it on, she felt as though the dress was made for her. Glancing in her full-length mirror, she felt like a princess.

She smiled as she heard strains of music coming from downstairs. The sound of traditional Italian music became louder as Theresa made her way out of her bedroom, through the hall, and down the stairs.

Ethan looked over at the staircase and drew in a breath. Stunning wasn't even the word to describe Theresa. She looked like an angel...a sensual angel. The dress looked as though it had been made for her, hugging her curves, but leaving plenty to the imagination.

Theresa smiled broadly when she saw what Ethan. He wore a white tuxedo, complemented by a white chef's hat and a ridiculous fake mustache. He stood next to a set table, candles burning. Looking around the room, she saw flowers and pictures, pictures from various places in Italy.

"Luigi, it's been so long," Theresa said extending her hand.

Ethan took her hand and kissed it lightly, his mustache tickling her. "Too long, _Bella_. You look _magnifico_."

"So Ethan finally let you out of your cage."

He shook his head and sighed playfully. "He never calls. He never writes. Elvis and I just don't understand it."

Theresa laughed. "At least you and Elvis can keep each other company." She tilted her head to the side. "I heard Elvis was thinking about skydiving over Las Vegas. Apparently all the other Elvises are doing it. Is it true, Luigi?"

"Bite your tongue, _Bella_! You'd best not let _the_ Elvis hear you talk about _other_ Elvises!" he exclaimed in horror, still maintaining his fake Italian accident.

She leaned close to him and whispered in his ear, "It will be our little secret."

It was an innocent gesture, but it sent his heart pounding. The sweet scent of her hair, the way she moved so gracefully, her beautiful smile….all of those things captivated him. _She_ captivated him.

"Are you hungry?" he asked in his normal voice.

"A little," she admitted.

He reverted to his accent. "_Buen_. For your culinary pleasure, we have Caesar salad, manicotti, artichoke hearts, Italian bread, my personal favorite Italian vintage wine, and flambé."

"It sounds scrumptious, Luigi. By the way, if you happen to see Ethan, would you tell him that I'm looking for him?"

Ethan took off the chef's hat, as well as the fake mustache.

"Ethan! What a surprise! I had _no_ idea!" Theresa exclaimed slapping her hand over her mouth in feigned shock.

"I couldn't take the double life anymore," he replied with pretended grimness.

"Well, you're just in time for dinner."

"May I escort you?" he asked extending his arm.

She nodded as she took it. "Of course."

They walked the short distance to the table, and he pulled out a chair for her. As they began to eat, she marveled at both the food and the company. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had so much fun.

"…My first trip to Italy was an adventure. My brother Andrew and I went together. Even at our young ages, the barriers were already being drawn between us. I was interested in the museums, the churches, the architecture, the ruins. Andrew was interested in the women. He'd heard that Italian men will often pinch the derrieres of attractive female tourists. He took a great interest in this little fact."

"Oh, I see where this is going," Theresa groaned.

"Being chased by the Italian police put a stop to _that_ behavior," Ethan said with a chuckle. "Needless to say, I had more fun while I was by myself. I remember walking in Rome one night when I heard the most amazing music. I followed the sound. I can't even describe it except to say that it took me to a different time and place. It made me realize how insignificant I am. A group was playing in a plaza. The atmosphere was almost magical, the wind was blowing, and everyone was so alive. I knew that moment was special. Oh, Theresa, I wish you could see it all."

"Perhaps I will…_soon_."

"Really?"

"I sent some designs to Milan the other day in preparation for expanding my line. So we'll see. Speaking of expanding my line, I feel as though this dinner is going to expand my waist line. Ethan, it was delicious."

"Shall we work it off?" he asked.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Perhaps a little Italian folk dancing," he replied with a smile.

"Another hidden talent? However do you manage it, Mr. Crane?" she teased.

He held out his hand to her, and she took it. As their hands touched, she could feel the electricity surge between them. Many things might have changed, but the chemistry they shared certainly hadn't.

They walked into the living room, and Ethan turned on the CD player. "I programmed some songs for us, songs to make us think of Italia." He waited for the first piece to come on, but it didn't. He frowned.

"Don't worry about it, Ethan. The CD player is getting worn out. It just takes it a minute to get going," Theresa said. "Believe me, I deal with this _all_ the time. I suppose I really should get a new one, but I never think of it until I try to play a CD."

He nodded. "Shall we go out onto the deck?"

"Sounds perfect," Theresa said. She loved being outside, feeling the breeze come off the water from the ocean.

They went outside, leaving the door open to hear the music.

The first notes of music began to play, but it wasn't Ethan's Italian music. Theresa drew in an audible breath. The sensual sound of guitars filled the night air.

"'Wicked Game,'" she whispered. Memories flooded her mind, memories of a birthday spent with Ethan in San Diego watching Chris Isaak perform.

Ethan's felt his heart nearly stop, a surge of emotions running through him…emotions that had no right to be. _How do I stop feeling this way?_

"I'm sorry, Theresa. I don't know what happened. I'll turn it off," Ethan said, starting back into the house.

She grabbed his hand. "No, don't."

He looked back at her, seeing something in her eyes that he hadn't seen in a long time: a fire. He knew then that he was in danger of being scorched.

"Dance with me, Ethan."

"Theresa, I-"

"Sshhh." She lifted her finger to his lips to quiet him. "There's no tomorrow. No yesterday. Only this moment." Her tone was low, sultry.

Theresa couldn't believe her own boldness, but she didn't regret it. She'd missed being close to him, missed being in his arms. She'd missed laughing with him, teasing him. She'd missed sharing dreams and plans with him. And now that she had him back for a few, brief, glorious moments, she wasn't willing to let him go yet.

Her words rang in his mind. _No tomorrow. No yesterday. Only this moment._

He prayed that the moment would last forever.

Without speaking, Ethan drew her close as Chris Isaak's voice filled the air.

_The world was on fire  
No one could save me but you._

Ethan didn't even realize he'd been holding his breath until she came into his arms. His hands touched the smooth, soft skin of her back, and he reveled in the feeling of her hair brushing over his hands.

_Strange what desire will make foolish people do_

As she wrapped her arms around his neck, he could feel her soft breasts pressing against his chest, her hips gently swaying with the music. He could almost believe they were one person as they moved in unison, two halves of the same whole.

_I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you  
And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you_

Theresa closed her eyes. It was all a dream; a glorious, vivid, all-consuming dream spurring indescribable, indefinable sensations through her body. She'd awoken from this dream before, but right or wrong, she was determined to hold onto this dream for as long as she could.

_No, I don't want to fall in love  
This love is only gonna break your heart  
No, I don't want to fall in love  
This love is only gonna break your heart  
With you  
With you _

She fit perfectly into his arms. She _was_ perfect.

Inhaling the scent of her hair, Ethan pulled her closer. He just couldn't get close enough to her.

Feeling her soft body so close to his, he started to respond. He tried to extinguish the sensations coursing through his body, knowing she would feel him harden against her.

It was impossible.

He wanted her. With everything in him, he wanted her. _Fiercely_.

Theresa's breath stopped as she felt his heat, his hardness, against her belly. She knew she should put an end to the dance, put an end to the evening before she lost herself in the feeling of him.

But she had no intention of putting an end to it.

She wanted him. With everything in her, she wanted him. _Fiercely_.

_What a wicked game you play  
To make me feel this way  
What a wicked thing to do  
To let me dream of you_

_What a wicked thing to say  
You never felt this way  
What a wicked thing to do  
To make me dream of you_

He ran his fingers down the small of her back, giving her chills. Huskily, he whispered, "You've held me captive, Theresa. For years, I've dreamed of you; dreamed of holding you like this. But in my dreams you're always out of reach."

Theresa looked into his crystal blue eyes, her heart pounding. She ran her fingers lightly across his jawline. "Not anymore, Ethan. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

His heart skipped a beat.

_Just one kiss_, he told himself. _Just one_. He leaned down, lightly brushing her lips with his own.

It wasn't enough.

Groaning, feeling an increasing need for her, Ethan took full possession of her mouth. His lips moved across hers, relearning her texture, her taste.

It had been nearly six years. Six long years without holding her in his arms, without kissing her, without letting her know that she was his everything.

_And I don't wanna fall in love  
This love is only gonna break your heart  
No I don't want to fall in love  
This love is only gonna break your heart  
With you_

Theresa couldn't believe the feelings swelling within her. She was caught in a fury of emotions and sensations, as though being carried away by a current, a powerful, uncontrollable current. Wanting more, needing more, she parted her lips under his.

Ethan moaned quietly as he deepened the kiss, feeling her tongue spar with his. He was a starving man, and she tasted so sweet.

He was home.

_World was on fire  
No one could save me but you  
Strange what desire will make foolish people do  
I never dreamed that I'd love somebody like you  
I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you_

Instinctively, Theresa arched her hips against his heat. She strained to be closer yet as she raked her nails down his back, the hard tips of her breasts pressing into his chest.

Ethan groaned. He wanted to be with her so badly, the need growing stronger each moment that passed. He reached between them cupping a breast in his hand. He was grateful that she wasn't wearing a brassiere, but he wished she weren't wearing the dress.

His mouth left hers, tracing her jawline with kisses and the column of her neck.

Theresa buried her fingers in his hair, desperate to bring him closer, moaning in pleasure.

_No I don't wanna fall in love  
This love is only gonna break your heart  
No I don't wanna fall in love  
This love is only gonna break your heart  
With you  
With you_

_No I…_

Nobody loves no one

Theresa turned away from him, and Ethan grunted in protest. But she turned, smiling mischievously, and beckoned him back inside the house with the curling of her finger. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he followed her lead, closing the outside door behind him.

The next move would be hers.

As much as he wanted her, he didn't want to rush her. He didn't want to take advantage of her.

Wordlessly, she intertwined her fingers with his and led him toward the staircase.

Ethan drew in a sharp breath, knowing what it meant.

_She had made her choice, and she wanted him._

Ethan was the happiest man alive until he heard the knocking on the door.

Theresa groaned.

"Maybe if we ignore it, whoever is there will go away," Ethan suggested, his mouth finding hers again.

The loud knocking came again, followed by Luis's voice. "Theresa, I know you're in there. Open the door!"


	48. Chapter 48

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Eight: "If Only"**

Theresa's eyes grew wide. "It's Luis! Ethan, he can't find us together. He'll go nuts!"

Ethan groaned, not wanting their time together to end. But he also knew Theresa's brother and how intense his temper could be.

"Just don't open the door. He'll go away."

Theresa shook her head. "This is Luis we're talking about. If I don't open the door, he's likely to think that there's something wrong with me and he will try to beat the door down."

Ethan circled her waist and kissed her lightly on the lips. "I don't want to share you with anyone tonight. Especially Luis."

The pounding continued. "Theresa! _Theresa!_ C'mon. Open the door."

Theresa bit her bottom lip nervously and looked toward the door. "Ethan, I have to open the door. Just go upstairs. Wait for me there."

"Theresa, I'm not going upstairs to hide from Luis. I'm not ashamed of what I feel for you, and I'm not afraid for Luis to know."

She touched his face. "Everything is still so new and so uncertain. I'm not sure I'm ready to share anything with the world just yet …. or with my brother. Please, Ethan. Just go upstairs. I'll be there as soon as I can."

He frowned, and Theresa could tell that he didn't want to do it. But he did do it for her.

Once Ethan was upstairs, Theresa walked to the door and swung it open. "Hi Luis."

Luis was frowning. Something just wasn't right. Studying his sister, he could see that her hair was somewhat disheveled and she had a faint blush on her cheeks. She was also rather dressed up for a night at home. "Didn't you hear me knocking? What took so long?"

"I was in the middle of something," Theresa ambiguously replied.

Luis looked over her shoulder and could see the nicely set table and the exotic flowers. Realization dawned on him. "Oh, you have a date!"

Nervously, Theresa smiled. "I guess you could say that."

Luis smiled. "I can't tell you how happy I am to hear you say that. I was starting to get worried about you, Sis. But I'm glad to see that you're moving on."

"W-what brings you by, Luis?" Theresa asked, still standing in the doorway.

"Maybe if you invite me in, I'll tell you about it," Luis replied with a wink.

Theresa's heart started to race. If Luis came in, he might realize that it was Ethan who was with her. But how could she keep him out? There was no way…not without making him even more suspicious.

"Sorry," Theresa said stepping aside.

Luis strode in and looked around. "Wow. Looks like you were having quite an evening," he remarked.

"I suppose," Theresa replied guardedly.

"So who is the lucky fellow? And where is he?"

"Um, he had to step out for a few minutes."

"Yes, but who is he?" Luis asked.

Theresa frowned and reached out to rub the back of her neck, not wanting to answer his question. "Luis, you mentioned that there was a reason you came by. What is it?"

"Sheridan mentioned to me that you came by the house last night. She said that you had wanted to see me, so I thought I would stop by and check on you."

Theresa closed her eyes for a moment. Last night seemed so long ago. She'd been confused by her feelings for Ethan; confused about so many things. At the time, she'd hoped that Luis could help provide a clarity that seemed beyond her reach.

But things had changed drastically.

"That was very sweet of you, Luis, but everything is fine."

"Well, Sheridan said that you had wanted to speak with me about something. She made it sound important. What was it?"

Theresa waved her hand. "It was nothing, Luis. I promise. Everything is fine now."

Luis studied his sister, noticing her nervous movements. "Sheridan also said that she thought she upset you. She told me that Ethan had been there, and that you and she had a conversation about him."

"Luis, let's not get into this," Theresa said.

"Theresa, you really shouldn't let that scum still have a hold over you. The past is in the past….where it belongs."

_That's just it. I can't let go of the past._ It bothered her to hear Luis talk about Ethan like that. Ethan was a good man, not the egotist that Luis wanted to believe him to be. "Please, Luis. Don't talk about him like that," Theresa said.

Luis tilted his head and stared at his sister. "What has gotten into you, Theresa? After everything that he did to you, why would you defend him?"

Theresa took a deep breath. "I just wish that you and Ethan would get along." Seeing the suspicious look on her brother's face, she added, "For Sheridan's sake, you know."

Luis's features relaxed. "Of course. I know that you would never have anything to do with him again. I even told that to Sheridan. To tell you the truth, I think she feels pretty bad about the argument you had."

Theresa remembered the conversation all too well. Sheridan had accused her of having an affair with Ethan. She'd denied it, of course, but how things could change in just one day! She was well on her way to doing just what she had denied.

Guilt started to sink in. "I'll make sure to talk with her tomorrow. She has nothing to feel badly about."

"Still, the idea of you and that bastard Ethan Crane… it's laughable. I mean, he's a married man. I know that _my_ sister would never lower herself to be any man's mistress."

Theresa swallowed hard. That's what she would be….Ethan's_ mistress_….if she allowed the evening to continue. It was something she'd promised herself that she would never be.

Noticing the troubled look on his sister's face, Luis put his arm around her. "What is it, Theresa? What's wrong?"

She shook her head. "Nothing, Luis. Nothing."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Theresa said putting on a smile for him. "I'm just tired. That's all."

"All right, then. Sheridan's waiting for me at home, so I'm going to take off." He kissed the top of her head. "I love you, Sis."

"I love you, too, Luis."

Theresa walked him to the door and watched as he left. Closing the door behind him, she leaned against it.

She'd been so close to forgetting who she was, but Luis had reminded her. It scared her to think that she was in danger of losing herself in Ethan once again.

It couldn't happen.

She wouldn't let it.

For as long as she could remember, she'd dreamed of finding one true, perfect love, marrying that man, and making love for the first time on their wedding night. She would not be any man's _mistress_.

Things were just so complicated. As much as she had tried to push the feelings aside, she loved Ethan. God help her, but she loved him.

But Ethan hadn't loved her enough. He'd broken her heart once before. She wasn't going to give him another opportunity.

* * *

Ethan sat on Theresa's bed, looking around him. Everything was so indescribably _her_. To be surrounded by her things was comforting but disconcerting, as well. He hadn't expected the old feelings to come rushing out as they did. For so long, he'd been trying to keep a tight reign on them. And now…now he was waiting for her in her bedroom.

He thought back to the kiss they'd shared and felt himself growing hot. He never intended for it to happen, but once it did, it was the most natural thing in the world. It was like coming home.

He couldn't believe he'd gone almost six years without holding her in his arms.

He couldn't believe he'd gone almost six years without kissing her.

He couldn't believe he'd gone almost six years without telling her that she was his everything.

And he also couldn't believe that he was about to become the very thing he always detested most about the men in his family. He was about to officially become a user.

Looking down at the gold band he wore on his left hand, he sighed.

_Gwen. _

She deserved so much better than this; so much better than him. He knew that he hadn't been a perfect husband. Though he'd tried to deny it for so long, much of his energy had been focused on the past-on Theresa-rather than on his present and future with his wife.

Yet Gwen had continued to love him, to be true to him. She'd never lied to him, never tricked him. All she'd ever done was offer unfailing support. And how was he repaying that? He was in another woman's bedroom.

It was just so hard to let go. He knew he needed to let go of the past and concentrate on his future with his wife, but it was a near impossible feat. Theresa had blown into his life like a hurricane, making him re-evaluate everything that he thought he knew. She'd shown him a life that went beyond expectations and responsibility. She made him believe in a world filled with endless possibilities.

She'd also taken his heart and toyed with it.

As much as he wanted to stay with her, as much as his body ached for her, he knew this was something that could not be.

She'd broken his heart once before. He wasn't going to give her another opportunity.

* * *

As Theresa started up the stairs, she felt as though her shoes were filled with lead. Each step was increasingly difficult. Yet she knew what had to be done.

Opening the door to her bedroom, she saw him sitting on the edge of her bed. He looked to be deep in thought.

When he heard the door open, Ethan looked up. "Is Luis gone?"

Theresa nodded. "He came by to check on me. Sheridan told him that I had stopped by to see him. She also told him about the disagreement that she and I had."

"It was….thoughtful….of Luis to check on you," Ethan said.

"I do have a wonderful big brother. I only wish that you and he could get along, Ethan. It hurts Sheridan-and me-that you don't."

Ethan sighed. "I know that you love him a great deal, but you need to understand that Luis and I will never see eye-to-eye. There is too much distrust between us."

"But I just know that if you talk things out, you'll see that it doesn't have to be this way. This distrust doesn't have to exist." Theresa felt her heart clench for a reason that she couldn't entirely decipher. _Was she talking about Luis…or about herself? _

Ethan stood, trying to choose his words carefully. "Once a trust has been broken, it's nearly impossible to repair, Theresa."

He swallowed hard. Luis would never trust him again because he blamed the fact that Theresa left Harmony on him. Yet Theresa had also broken the trust that they had once shared. He knew what she really was, but he'd been so foolishly ready to dismiss it.

Ethan continued, "I've made plenty of mistakes in my life and given your family reason to distrust me. But I have to protect my family, too. I can't break the trust I share with Gwen."

Theresa took a deep breath. "We crossed the line tonight, Ethan, and it can't happen again."

"I know."

She closed her eyes for a brief moment, trying to gather her strength. If only things were different….

But they weren't.

"I promised myself that I would never be any man's mistress."

"And I promised myself that I would never break my wedding vows. I will never become my father or my grandfather."

Theresa tried to fight back the tears that were forming in her eyes. "I can't even begin to tell you how much I appreciate the way that you've taken care of me in the last twenty-four hours. When I'm around you, I feel like I'm able to reclaim a bit of the girl I once was. I'm able to restore some of those old dreams."

"But it's too dangerous," Ethan supplied.

"Yes. It is."

Ethan felt like a ton of bricks had been dropped on him. Part of him wanted to say to hell with doing the right thing. All he wanted was to be with her and never leave. He was afraid that it was all he ever _would_ want.

"You're right. We can't be around each other, Resa. For our own sakes and for the sakes of those around us."

"I suppose this is the point where I'm supposed to say that perhaps we can be friends," Theresa said bitterly.

Ethan shook his head. "We will never be friends."

"I know," she said quietly.

"I should go," he said.

Awkwardness hung in the air.

"You should. I'll see you out," she said.

Slowly they walked down the stairs, neither wanting to be apart from the other. They both knew that once they said their final goodbye, there would be no going back.

At last, they reached the door.

"Goodbye, Theresa."

She nodded, saying nothing.

Ethan walked out the door, knowing her gaze was upon him. He felt the urge to turn and go back to her.

_No, I have to fight it,_ he told himself. _If I turn around, it will be that much harder to go._

Yet there was a part of him that was unwilling to let go of her. Just like Lot's wife, he turned, knowing it was the wrong thing to do but unable to help himself. Seeing the silent tears streaming down her face, he felt tears well up in his own.

Without thinking, he moved swiftly toward her, pulling her close, and capturing her mouth with his own. Her lips parted under his, their kisses fierce and desperate. His tongue swept through her mouth, tasting her, teasing her with hints of things that never could be.

He broke suddenly from the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers.

Quietly, she said, "It hurts, Ethan."

"I'm sorry, Dearest."

And he was. He was sorry that he'd given up on them those years before, sorry that he knew the truth, sorry that he'd turned his back on her, sorry that he was about to turn his back on her again.

It took every ounce of his strength to walk away, but he did. There could be no future for them. There would be no more kisses, no more laughter. There would be no more hope.

For the second time in his life, he walked away from Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald.


	49. Chapter 49

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Notes: Thanks so much for the reviews! I'm glad you all are still reading this verrrrrry long story. :)

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Nine: "Hurt"**

Whitney frowned when Theresa didn't answer the door. Something was wrong. It was 8:30 a.m., and they had already planned to eat breakfast together. It just didn't make sense. Theresa was usually so energetic in the mornings.

She knocked again, louder this time.

Still no answer.

She sighed and made a decision. Rummaging through the numerous keys on her key chain, Whitney found the spare key to Theresa's house. She felt funny about using it; Theresa had only given it to her in case she locked herself out. Still, it was better to be certain that nothing was wrong with her friend. She would understand.

Finding the key, Whitney inserted it into the keyhole and let herself in. She was surprised by what she saw. Flowers were everywhere. It was like walking into a paradise. The table was set with candles which had been blown out. She stopped at the sofa and saw a white chef's hat.

"Oh no," Whitney groaned. The last time she'd seen such a thing was when Luigi made an appearance at the Crane cabin.

Was it possible that Ethan was there with her? Had they spent the night together? She hoped not.

But wait….she hadn't seen his car outside. Maybe she was just letting her imagination run away with her.

"Theresa, are you here?" Whitney called out.

No answer.

Whitney was starting to get really worried.

Making her way up the stairs, she approached Theresa's bedroom and knocked on the door. "Theresa, it's Whitney. Are you awake?" _Are you alone? _she thought.

A moment later, the door swung open. Theresa stood there, dark circles under her eyes.

"Theresa, are you okay? I knocked and I knocked, but you didn't answer."

"I guess I didn't get much sleep last night," Theresa replied quietly. She stifled a yawn and turned away from her friend's curious gaze.

Walking to her bed, Theresa pulled the covers up and smoothed them. It was time to face the world, whether she wanted to or not.

"What happened?" Whitney asked walking to her friend and taking her hand and sitting with her on the edge of the bed.

"I dared let myself hope. That's what happened, Whit."

"Ethan." Whitney felt her blood begin to boil. Why couldn't he just leave well enough alone?

"Yeah. Ethan."

"Theresa, did you and he….?"

"No," Theresa replied.

Whitney put her hand to her chest. "Thank goodness! When I saw the chef's hat downstairs, I thought that maybe…."

Theresa looked at her friend. "I'm not going to lie to you. I wanted to, Whitney, and we almost did. If Luis hadn't shown up, Ethan and I probably would have made love."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this! After all the protesting, after all the denials, now you're telling me that Ethan was here and that the two of you almost had sex."

"It wasn't like that, Whit. I-we-never intended anything to happen."

"Does that mean the two of you are together? Is he leaving Gwen?"

Theresa shook her head. "No, we aren't together, and we aren't going to be. I don't plan to see him again. He made vows to Gwen, and I made vows of my own. I will never compromise myself in that way."

"Why don't you start at the beginning."

Theresa took a deep breath. "Two nights ago, I received a phone call from a person claiming to be Chuck."

"Oh my God," Whitney gasped.

"It was pretty shocking to say the least. I took off in a hurry to look for Luis, but I ran into Ethan instead. I was in such a state, Whit. He took care of me. He brought me home, talked me through the tumult of emotions I was feeling, and he promised to help to get to the bottom of what was going on.

"He took care of everything. He got an investigation rolling, and he went to New York yesterday to talk to the coroner who worked on Chuck's case. He even went to see Emmaline."

Whitney's eyes grew wide. "Doesn't she hate Ethan?"

Theresa nodded. "It was pretty brave of him. What he found out was that there was no way Chuck could still be alive. Whitney, I prayed and I prayed that Chuck was out there somewhere…that it had all been a terrible mistake, but it wasn't.

"When Ethan came to tell me, I was devastated. He was determined to cheer me up, so he brought Italy to me."

"That's why I saw Luigi's hat," Whitney said.

"Yes, that's why. Whit, it was just like old times. We teased each other and laughed. I can't even remember the last time I laughed so much! It was like I'd been in this long slumber and he brought me out of it."

"Then what happened?" Whitney asked.

"He was going to teach me some Italian folk dances. He went to turn on the CD player, but you know how it's been messed up lately. Instead of listening to Italian music, 'Wicked Game' began to play."

Whitney groaned. "Not Chris Isaak!"

"Yeah. Chris Isaak. I know I shouldn't have done it, but when Ethan went to turn off the song, I stopped him and asked him to dance with me. Whit, being in his arms just reminded me of everything he meant to me…everything that he still means to me. We kissed for the first time in almost six years, and I felt like the world was tilting on its axis. All rational thought left me. All I knew was that I wanted to be with him, no matter the consequences. I was desperate for him!

"We went inside, and I wanted him to stay with me. We were about to go upstairs together when Luis showed up. I told Ethan to wait for me up upstairs while I got rid of Luis."

"If Luis would've seen Ethan, he would have gone ballistic," Whitney said.

"I know. That's why I didn't want to take any chances. Talking with Luis made me realize something, Whit. It made me realize that I couldn't go through with it. I love Ethan. There. I said it. I love Ethan Crane with all of my heart, but he's not mine to love. He has a wife, and I made a promise to myself long ago that I would never be any man's mistress."

"Good for you, Theresa," Whitney said with a smile.

"It wasn't as easy as that, though. I want to be with him, Whit. I want to feel his arms around me, and I want to hear him whisper in my ear. I'm no saint."

"You _are _a good person, Theresa."

"I don't feel like a good person. All I know is that for a few brief, glorious moments, the world stood in front of me with so many possibilities. I considered throwing all my so-called ideals out the window. There's still a part of me that wants to."

"So how did Ethan take the news?" Whitney asked.

"It was a mutual decision. He'd apparently done some thinking while I was talking with Luis and told me that he couldn't betray Gwen. He couldn't hurt her in that way. And he's right, Whit. We haven't been fair to her. We haven't sought each other out, but we haven't let go, either. It's time to let go. I just don't know how to do that."

"I thought you were making a start with Drew."

Theresa sighed. "I was. I _am_. I do care about him. He's unlike any man I've ever known, but…."

"But he's not Ethan."

"Isn't that terrible of me? Why can't I let things go?"

"Maybe if you spent some more time with Drew…today even…it would give you some perspective. Maybe you just need to be around someone new."

"We're supposed to have dinner with his family tonight. I've been so eager to meet them, to finally have a better understanding of what makes him tick. I'm just not sure I can go through with it, feeling as I do."

Whitney squeezed her friend's hand. "Don't pass up this opportunity, Theresa. When he came into the boutique the other day, I could tell he was crazy about you. And I could see the chemistry between the two of you. There is something between you, isn't there?"

Theresa thought back to the last time Drew had kissed her. They'd been in his hotel suite, and he was trying to make a point to her about the different between love and lust. It had been quite effective, and she'd found herself in the midst of temptation.

"There is," she admitted.

"Good. I just don't want to see you sitting at home sulking over Ethan Crane. I can guarantee that he's not sitting around sulking over you. He's probably with his wife at this very moment."

Theresa bolted up and glared at her friend. "How can you say those things to me?"

"I'm not trying to hurt you, Theresa, but a little dose of reality would do you some good. Ethan's life is not stopping for you. Don't let your life stop for him. Go out with Drew tonight. Have a good time," quickly she added, "but not too good of a time."

Quietly, Theresa nodded and turned away from her friend.

Whitney just didn't understand that it wasn't as easy as she made it seem.

She and Ethan had been so close to re-connecting. The draw she felt to him was almost more than she could bear. Now that the floodgates had been opened…and now that she knew he felt the same way…it was all the more difficult.

Yet he had walked away from her.

She knew why he did it. He did it for their own benefits. He was strong when she couldn't be.

Yet knowing he felt the same way for her….and knowing that they never could be together….it was just too much.

* * *

Ethan stared into his coffee.

"Something interesting in there?" Ivy asked teasingly as she walked to where he sat at the dining room table. She kissed the top of her son's head.

Ethan looked up at his mother and said nothing.

"Sweetheart, what happened?" Ivy asked, her playful expression being replaced by concern.

"Nothing, Mother."

Ivy shook her head. "Don't tell me 'nothing.' I can see quite plainly that you're upset by something."

"How did you do it, Mother?"

"How did I do what?"

"Stay married to one man who you were in love with another."

Ivy was taken aback by her son's question. They rarely discussed her past or the circumstances surrounding his parentage. The fact that he asked the question out of the blue gave her an uneasy feeling.

"We've already been through this, Ethan."

"We've been through why you did it," Ethan reminded her, "but not _how_ you did it."

Ivy hesitated, unsure of what she should say. "One does what one has to do," Ivy replied. "I wasn't going to be with…_him,_ and I recognized that fact, as painful it might have been. Believe me, marriage to Julian has not been an enjoyable experience, but there is a certain safety in it. I didn't have to worry about him rejecting me because I rejected him first so long ago."

"Didn't you want more than safety, Mother? Didn't you ever want to just turn your back on it all?"

"I had…other considerations."

"My siblings and me," Ethan said.

"Yes," Ivy said, her voice lowering. She reached out and touched her son's face. "I would do anything for you. You know that. Now, will you tell me what's troubling you?"

Ethan shook his head. "I can't. This is something I need to deal with on my own."

Ivy frowned. "Are you and Gwen having problems? I noticed that neither of you was here the night before last."

"Gwen was at her mother's, and I had an emergency that I needed to take care of."

"Ethan, I don't think it's a good idea for Gwen to spend so much time at Rebecca's. I just get the feeling that Rebecca brings out the worst in Gwen and feeds her insecurities. How a mother could do that to her child, I'll never understand. Perhaps if you talked to her about maintaining some distance…."

Ethan rubbed his eyes. "I don't like it, either, Mother, but Gwen has her reasons. I haven't exactly been the type of husband that I wanted to be."

"Ethan, you aren't having an affair, are you?"

"I've never been with a woman other than Gwen," Ethan admitted. Yet he realized that there were different types of affairs besides physical ones, and he knew he had stepped over the boundary into that gray area.

"I'm glad to hear that, Darling. You and Gwen have been together for so long, it's natural to lose some of that spark, but don' t give up on each other."

Ethan merely stared at his coffee again.

Ivy looked for a way to brighten her son's chilly mood. "Well, on a brighter note, can you believe that Andrew is introducing us to his girlfriend tonight? I wonder what she will be like."

"No doubt she'll be a beauty," Julian piped in as he entered the room and approached mother and son. "Andrew always has had exquisite taste when it comes to the ladies and _extracurricular_ activities. He's just like his old man in that respect."

Ivy rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you use the term 'ladies' loosely, Julian. Ladies of the night, perhaps?"

"Their company is certainly more appealing than yours, my little twinkie."

"And going to the dentist for a root canal is more appealing that being around you, Julian."

Ethan groaned. "I hope the two of you will get this out of your system now. I promised Andrew that I would have the two of you on your best behavior for dinner tonight."

Julian chuckled. "Don't worry, my boy. Ivy and I are quite good at putting on a show. We've been doing it for years now."

"Yes, Ethan. If this were Hollywood, I would dare to venture that Julian and I would have been Oscar contenders several times over by now."

"Oh, you flatter me, Ivy."

Ivy glared at her husband. "Don't start feeling too proud of yourself, Julian. We both know why we continue this sham of a marriage and why we've become so adept at acting."

Ethan watched the mean-spirited verbal sparring between his parents and prayed that it wouldn't be his existence twenty years from now.

* * *

"I'm glad we're doing this, Ethan," Gwen said as she and her husband walked into Brazen. "I feel as though we haven't been out to lunch together in so long."

Ethan reached over and took her hand in his. He was determined to make this work. "I know that Brazen isn't exactly the Country Club, but…"

"But nothing. It's fine, Ethan. Really. Besides, I know you like this place, and I want to be where you want to be," Gwen assured him.

Once inside, they took a table. Pretty soon afterward, a waitress came to take their orders.

"Have you been busy at work?" Gwen asked before taking a sip of her mineral water.

Ethan nodded. "I suppose you could say that. I've been working on the Vandergroot case."

Gwen shook her head. "Old man Vandergroot always did have a nose for a good deal. He's quite shrewd, but I don't think you have anything to worry about. You're one of the best corporate lawyers out there."

"I guess I just get tired of the paperwork sometimes. Corporate law can be rather bland."

Gwen tilted her head. "What would you do if you didn't work for the company?"

"I don't know. Maybe I'd open my own firm and take those cases that no one else wants to touch. There are so many people out there who need help. I just worry that they don't receive the help they need."

Gwen smiled. "You have such a good heart, Ethan. It's a good idea, but you have to know that Julian and Alistair would never allow it."

"I'm not planning on asking their permission if I decide to do it."

"Mmmm….where is this new-found ambition coming from?" Gwen asked with a twinkle in her eye. "Did something happen?"

Ethan sighed. "A lot of things have happened."

Gwen leaned forward in her chair and took his hands. "I know that things haven't been great between us lately, but you do know that I love you, don' t you? Anything that you decide to do, I will support you in it."

Ethan squeezed her hands. "Thank you, Gwen. That means a lot to me. I-I don't want things to continue as they've been. How many years have we been together now?"

"Nearly fifteen. I still remember the first time I saw you at that social. We were so young, but I knew then that you were the one for me. Knowing that was the easy part. Convincing you of it….that wasn't so easy."

Gwen smiled as she spoke, but her heart wrenched. She'd always loved him more than he loved her; she'd always needed him more. She just never realized how profound the difference was until Theresa came into their lives and she saw Ethan needing someone else.

She'd never wanted their marriage to be this way. She'd always imagined that of all their friends, they would be the couple to endure. The petty cheating and bickering would not go on between them. But it had, and they were on their way to becoming what they'd always hated.

"What can I say? I was fifteen years old. What does a fifteen year know about what he wants? I just remember thinking that you were so pretty."

Gwen sighed. "I was so nervous when you came over and asked me to dance. But looking back all these years later, I'm so glad that you did. Ethan, you have to know that I wouldn't trade a minute of what we've shared for anything."

"Gwen, there are things that I need to tell you. I know that I haven't been the husband that you deserve, but..."

She leaned across the table and brushed his lips with her own. "Sshhh… We have a chance at a new start, Ethan. A fresh beginning. Let's not muddle it with regrets and apologies."

* * *

"Why are we going here, Whitney?" Theresa asked as her friend pulled her from her car. They were parked outside of Brazen.

The two friends had spent the morning together at Theresa's house, but Whitney was determined to get her up and around. "I already told you. It will do you some good to be around people. You can't stay around your house and mope. Besides, I told Chad that I would stop by during lunch."

"Ah. Now we get to the heart of the matter. This is about you wanting to be around Chad," Theresa teased.

"That's no secret. I always want to be around him. It took me a long time to admit that, but now that I have, there's no denying it."

The two friends walked in, and made their way toward Chad who was situated behind the bar. Theresa was starting to think that it had been a good idea….until she saw Ethan with Gwen. They looked so comfortable together.

Her heart dropped.

Whitney had been right when she'd said that Ethan would be with Gwen.

What else should she expect? They were married, after all.

Still, it hurt.

It hurt knowing that Ethan would share his thoughts and dreams with Gwen.

It hurt knowing that Ethan would hold Gwen in his arms, make love to her, tell her that he loved her.

It hurt knowing that they would have a family together.

Theresa tried to pretend that she hadn't seen Ethan and Gwen, but it was too late. Her brown eyes met Ethan's blue.

Ethan felt his heart stop.

_Theresa_.

He hadn't expected to see her so soon. He hadn't been sure how he would feel when he saw her, but now he knew.

It hurt.

It hurt knowing that he couldn't talk to her.

It hurt knowing that he couldn't laugh with her, tease her, dream with her.

It hurt knowing that he would never feel her in his arms again, never know the taste of her kisses or the feeling of her tender touch.

It hurt knowing that if he hadn't walked away from her six years ago, things would be different. They might even have a family together.

For the brief instant that their eyes met, Ethan felt his heart lurch. The raw emotion in her brown eyes was drawing him to her. He wanted to jump up, tell her that everything would be okay, that somehow, they would make it through together.

But he couldn't. He'd made a commitment that he intended to keep.

Theresa jerked her gaze away from him, holding her head up high. The moment of recognition was gone. This was how it was going to be.

Ethan turned his attention back to Gwen and tried to pretend that he hadn't been effected by the sight of Theresa. Yet he knew that he was still a poor actor. Perhaps someday he would master the art, just as his parents had done.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Theresa," Whitney whispered. "I didn't realize that they would be here."

"It's okay, Whit. You couldn't have known. Besides, I had better get used to seeing them together. This is the way that things are going to be."

Sitting at the bar, Chad approached them.

"How lucky am I feelin' about right now?" Chad asked with a grin. He leaned across the bar and planted a short kiss on Whitney's lips. "I get to see two lovely ladies in one afternoon. How's it goin', Theresa?"

Theresa managed a small smile. "It's going," she replied.

"Now that's not too convincin'! Say it like you really mean it."

Theresa felt the blood drain from her face. She wasn't prepared to deal with this.

Seeing her friend's distress, Whitney stepped in. "Chad, Theresa's not feeling well today," she offered as a matter of explanation.

"I-I think I'm going to go to the ladies' room and splash some water on my face. Excuse me."

Theresa quickly made her exit, and Chad watched her go, feeling dumbfounded. "What did I do?"

Whitney shook her head. "It's not anything that you've done. Theresa's just had a rough couple of days. Seeing Ethan and Gwen here didn't help any."

Chad looked around the room and finally caught sight of his friend and his wife. "Well, I'll be damned. I never thought I'd see Gwen Crane here of her own choosin'." He looked back to Whitney. "I just wish Ethan and Theresa would hook up and get it over with."

"In case you hadn't noticed, Ethan is a married man. I, for one, hope that Ethan and Theresa don't hook up. He nearly destroyed her the first time around. I would hate to see what he has planned for an encore."

"That's what I don't get," Chad remarked. "It's so obvious to me that Ethan loved her back then. I think it's obvious to anyone lookin' that he still loves her now. Why he gave up on her back then, I'll never know."

"You mean Ethan never confided his reasons to you?"

"Nah. Couldn't get a word outta 'im. Did Theresa ever tell _you_ why?"

Whitney shook her head. "She doesn't even know all the reasons why. She thinks it's because she lied to Ethan about how long she had feelings for him and about the fake boyfriend. I feel really badly about that one."

"Nah. It's more than that. Ethan so much as told me. But what? That's what I can't figure out."

"All I know is those two had better steer clear of one another. Gwen is not going to stand for any interaction between Ethan and Theresa."

Chad's eyes shot over to Ethan and Gwen. He watched as Gwen stood and began making her way to the ladies' room. He turned back to Whitney.

"Don't look now, but I think the claws are about to come out."


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter Fifty: Guess Who's Coming to Dinner**

Theresa stood in the ladies' room at Brazen, hands on the counter, leaning forward, and looking into the mirror.

She didn't like what she saw. It was as though she was a shadow of herself, or perhaps a shadow of the person she wanted to be.

"It's time to let go, Theresa. Let go, Theresa. Just let go."

Another image appeared in the mirror behind her. "I've been saying that for quite some time. I'm glad you're finally listening."

Theresa turned around.

"Gwen," she acknowledged.

"Terrorsita," Gwen said with a smile. The smile did not reach her eyes.

Theresa cringed when she heard her mother's name of endearment for her altered into something ugly. She knew then that she needed to get out of there before she did or said something she would regret.

She tried to walk past Gwen, but Gwen moved, blocking her path.

"Get out of my way," Theresa said trying to keep her voice even.

"Not yet. You need to hear what I have to say. You owe me that courtesy."

"I don't owe you anything. Besides, I'm not interested," Theresa said, trying once again to walk around Gwen.

Once again, Gwen blocked her path.

"Oh, I think you are. You don't want to be, but you are." Gwen's tone was smug.

_She's playing with me_, Theresa realized. "Tell me something. Does it make you feel good to try to make me feel bad?"

"How ironic. I could be asking you the same question. All you've ever tried to do is take what I've had. I know your type. You see what other people have, and you want it. So tell me; does it make you feel good to go after another woman's husband, Terrorsita?"

"Don't. Call. Me. That."

Gwen shook her head. "You can't even deny it, can you? Well, just so that you know, my husband is off limits. He's rededicated himself to me, and we're going to start a family. In fact, we got a start on Project Baby last night. Oh, and again this morning."

Theresa felt as though Gwen's words struck her with physical force. She knew her face must have betrayed what she felt, but she tried to brush it aside. She squared her shoulders and held her head high. "How sad for you, Gwen. Are you so desperate that you feel the need to throw your sex life in my face?"

Gwen rolled her eyes. She simply could not believe the audacity of Ethan's tart. "There's nothing desperate about it, Theresa. I'm merely staking my claim and putting you on notice. Don't try me."

"And don't _you_ try _me_, Gwen. I am so tired of you and your smug attitude, and I have had it up to here!" Theresa held her hand level with forehead to accentuate her point.

"And I'm tired of you and your victim routine." Her voice went up a few notches in an exaggerated imitation of her rival. "'Oh poor me. My fiancé is dead. Comfort me! Comfort me!'"

Theresa glared at Gwen. "Don't you dare belittle Chuck's memory like that by suggesting that I use his death to my advantage. A part of me died that day along with him!"

"Too bad it couldn't have been all of you."

"Go to Hell, Gwen."

"You first, Theresa."

Theresa shook her head, unable to believe that she had allowed herself to be consumed by guilt. Why had she beaten herself up for years? The more she was around Gwen, the less guilty she felt.

"You know, I spent a long time feeling guilty about what happened between us, Gwen. I know I haven't handled things the right way. But you know what? Neither have you. I'm tired of feeling guilty, and I'm not going to do it anymore. So, if you push me, I'll push back. It's as simple as that."

"Push all you want. Just know that you won't push me out of Ethan's bed." Gwen held up her left hand and pointed to her engagement and wedding rings. "He is _my _husband, and I will never let _you_ have him."

"And just so that you know, Ethan is not a possession or a prize to be won. He's a good man, a decent man. He would give up his own happiness if he thought it would secure yours. It's too bad that you're too selfish to see it."

With that, Theresa pushed past a stunned Gwen Crane.

* * *

Chad walked to Ethan's table. He couldn't help but notice that his friend looked like his mind was elsewhere.

"How's it goin', my man?" Chad asked as the two shook hands.

"It's going."

Chad smiled thinking that Ethan's response was the same as Theresa's.

"Are you comin' by later tonight? I thought we could catch up. Looks like you could use a friend 'bout right now."

Ethan shifted in his chair. "I wish I could. Believe me. But I'm going to a family dinner at the Seascape. My brother Andrew is introducing his girlfriend to all of us."

"That's cool," Chad said. "I get the feelin' that we have lots to talk 'bout."

"Yes. I suppose we do," Ethan replied, looking past his friend.

Chad noticed Ethan glancing around him. He saw an opportunity that he couldn't resist. "Lookin' for Theresa?"

"What are you talking about?" Ethan asked as he turned his attention back to his friend.

"C'mon. It's me you're talkin' to. I sorta played it off to Whitney that I didn't even know you were here, but I saw that look b'tween the two of yous when Theresa came in. Hell_, Father Lonigan_ probably coulda seen the look between the two of yous if he'd been here."

Ethan silently cursed. "I'm trying to make things right between Gwen and me, but I just keep messing up. She saw the look, didn't she?"

Chad grinned. "Get a clue, my man. Of course she saw the look! Why else do you think she took off after Theresa into the ladies' room?"

"I didn't realize! Chad, I've got to do something!" Ethan said standing.

Chad grabbed Ethan's shoulders and forced him to sit back down. "Nah, man. You don't wanna do that. Bein' in the middle of one of those 'discussions' is not a good idea. Let them have it out. It'll do you all some good."

Ethan glanced toward the door that led to the ladies' room, an uneasy feeling overtaking him as he waited. He felt so ridiculous and so…guilty.

He hadn't realized that he'd been holding his breath until he saw the door open and Theresa come out. She looked upset as she made her way to her best friend.

A moment later, Gwen strolled out. She tried to walk with poise, but Ethan recognized the mask she had put on. It was her public face. He'd certainly seen it enough times to be able to differentiate between what Gwen was really thinking and feeling and what she wanted to convey to those around her.

Ethan wanted to know what went on, but wasn't certain that it was such a good idea to be asking.

Chad turned and saw Ethan's wife, and groaned, eager to make his exit. He and Gwen held no great love for one another, though Chad did make an effort not to speak ill against her.

"Listen, I'll talk to ya later," Chad said quickly.

"Sure thing."

Gwen sat down and watched in disdain as Chad strode away. She hated the fact that Chad and her husband were such good friends. She wasn't stupid. She knew that Chad pushed Ethan toward Theresa and continually worked to undermine her marriage.

She felt as though she were in the enemy camp. It used to be fun to walk in to Brazen with her head held high and thumb the proverbial nose at all those who had helped Theresa in her attempts to snare Ethan because _she'd_ outsmarted them all. _She_ had won.

She didn't feel like such a winner anymore, though.

"Ethan, let's go home," she said abruptly.

"We haven't eaten yet, Gwen," Ethan protested. Truth be told, he didn't want to leave until he knew that Theresa was okay. From the corner of his eyes, he kept sneaking glances at his love who was speaking to Whitney.

How Gwen wanted to leave that place! She batted her eyelashes, looking at him coquettishly. "I know, but suddenly I'm hungry for something other than food."

Ethan sighed. He hated to disappoint his wife, but it still didn't feel right to sleep with her. Last night and even this morning, he'd been able to plead that he was tired and that he had a headache. The truth of the matter was that he didn't want to be with Gwen in that way. Strangely enough, it felt like a betrayal to Theresa. Yet he knew that sooner or later, he would need to be her husband again…in every way.

"I'm sorry, Gwen. I have work to do at the office. The Vandergroot case, you know."

She frowned. "But it's Saturday, Ethan. What's the point in helping to run a company if you don't get free reign over your own hours?"

"I would just feel better if I could get this done. You, better than anyone else, know how it is when you're working on a deal. It's all I can think about."

_That's not entirely true, Ethan. Do you think I'm blind? I saw how you looked at Theresa when she came in. All you can think about is your little whore._

Gwen managed a shaky smile. "Yes, I know how dedicated you are to your job."

* * *

"Theresa, are you okay? I saw Gwen walk into the ladies' room after you." Whitney examined her friend closely. She could see the anger and hurt burning in Theresa's eyes.

Theresa nodded. "I'm fine, Whit. As much as Gwen might try, she can't hurt me anymore than I've already been hurt."

"I'm sorry, Theresa."

Theresa held her hand up. "Don't, Whit. Something she said actually made sense. Perhaps I do spend too much time and energy feeling sorry for myself. The past needs to stay where it is; in the past. It was a foolish dream to think that I could have a life with Ethan six years ago, and it's even more foolish today."

"But." Whitney kept waiting for the catch.

"But what? Done is done. I can't change anything, and I'm not going to make myself sick over that fact."

Whitney smiled. "I can't tell you how glad I am to hear you say that! Does that mean you've given some thought to the future?"

"Indeed I have."

"And?"

"And I intend to go to dinner with Drew tonight and meet his family. Other than that….we'll see."

"What? No grand, long-term plans?"

Theresa shook her head. "I, better than anyone else, know that even the most carefully laid plans go awry. I'm not going to do that to myself this time. I'm just not going to set myself up for a fall."

"Theresa, there are no guarantees."

"I know, Whit. Believe me, I know. But I also know something else. I trust Drew. He is probably the opposite of everything I ever said I wanted, but I trust him. If I fall, it won't be because of him."

* * *

Drew lifted his arms, guarding against Jamaal's attempts to score a basket. Drew's efforts were thwarted.

He and Jamaal watched as the basketball went through the basket, and Jamaal moved in for the rebound. After motioning for a time-out, Jamaal shook his head.

"Man, where are you today?" he asked. "Your game…well, it sucks."

Drew smiled, "You weren't saying that last week when I beat your ass into the ground."

"That was last week. But today….well, it's like you got no focus."

Drew couldn't deny it. All day he'd been thinking about Theresa and what the evening would mean for the two of them.

Tonight was the night that she would find out the truth. He knew that she would be hurt, but that couldn't be helped. Sometimes bystanders got hurt in wars, and this was war. _But I warned her over and over that I wasn't the man she thought I was. _

_Theresa won't be the only one hurt_, Drew thought in satisfaction. _Ethan is going to be floored. _

Drew was actually quite proud of his latest hustle. His plans had been so carefully laid. Even though he'd come across his share of stumbling blocks, everything had fallen into place. His casual mention of meeting a girl a few months ago, his remarks to Ethan of how amazing she was in bed, managing to prevent both Ethan and Theresa from learning the truth for so long…it was so perfect.

At first, Drew had been upset to find out that Ethan and Theresa were growing closer, but when he started to think about it, he realized that it would make the fallout of the evening all the more delicious.

Ethan already doubted Theresa, thanks to Gwen and her mother. But after tonight….once Ethan realized that it was Theresa whom he'd been seeing; once he realized that Theresa was his "lover," that would be it.

Besides the fact that Theresa would get caught in the crossfire, Drew did have one regret. He'd never managed to bed her.

Of course, Ethan wouldn't know that.

Drew looked to Jamaal. "I guess you're right, buddy. My focus is one something else entirely."

"A woman?"

Drew winked. "Oh yeah. And after tonight, nothing's going to be the same again."

* * *

Ethan wasn't sure how long he'd been staring at the documents, but he did know that he wasn't getting anything accomplished. Concentration was impossible when all he could see were soulful brown eyes filled with pain.

He pulled a remote control from his desk and turned on his CD changer. Finally finding the correct CD, he pushed play.

The sound of Chris Isaak filled the air. Ethan knew better, but he couldn't help himself. He might have promised that he wouldn't see Theresa anymore, but that didn't stop him from thinking about her.

_Driving slowly, watching the headlights in the rain.  
Funny how things change.  
Think of the good times wishing you were still with me.  
The way it used to be, graduation day._

"This has been a graduation day for us, Resa. We saw each other at Brazen, but didn't say a word."

But it had been hard. So hard.

When he saw Theresa, it took everything in his being to not go to her side. He felt like a jerk for not being with her, and he felt like a jerk for _wanting_ to be with her. Gwen deserved better. She had always been completely faithful to him, and up until recently, completely trusting. He had broken that trust, but he knew he had to work to earn it back._  
_  
Ethan looked around his office. Little had changed there in the last few years. A couple of new filing cabinets had been brought in to supply a home for the growing mountains of paperwork he examined, as well as produced.

His huge desk was still in the same place, the view from window was the same. Even the position of his freestanding globe hadn't been changed.

_But he had changed._

He was tired of living up to the image of being Ethan _Crane_; tired of being a fake.

He was tired of corporate law when it seemed so meaningless.

He was tired of smiling and shaking hands with people from his set who were sour, conceited, and made derogatory comments about so-called outsiders.

He was tired of always being so responsible, always trying to do the right thing.

He was tired of feeling like a prisoner in his marriage.

He was tired of longing for someone who was always out of his grasp.

Everywhere he looked, _she_ was there. Every time he closed his eyes, she was in his dreams. Even looking around the office, he could see remnants of _her_, memories that filled his mind.

He remembered a time shortly after they return to Harmony after being snowed in at the cabin that Theresa came to his office to deliver some papers for his mother. He was been called out for a few minutes by his personal assistant, leaving her there alone. When he returned, she was standing over the globe, spinning it and rubbing her fingers over its surface as it moved.

_She hadn't heard the door open or the footsteps behind her. She'd been so intent on the spinning sphere. _

_"I got that when I was a little boy," Ethan said with a smile on his face. "One year before Christmas, it was all I could think about. I know that must sound silly-"_

_"Not at all," Theresa said turning to look at him. "When I look at one of these, I see so many possibilities."_

_"What were you doing just now?" Ethan asked._

_Theresa looked at him, a twinkle in her eyes. "Planning my future. I let the globe spin, and I decided that wherever my finger landed, that was where I would go."_

_"And?"_

_She groaned. "Well, when I did it, it landed on Antarctica." _

_He laughed. "Maybe you can count that as a practice run. Why don't you try again?"_

_He spun the globe, and Theresa closed her eyes, letting her finger fall where it may. Opening her eyes, she saw that her finger had landed on Italy. "That's much better!" she declared._

_"So you want to go to Italy?"_

_She clasped her hands together and spoke animatedly. "Absolutely! I'm eager to see Luigi's old stomping grounds. Someday, I will be in Milan for my own fashion show. People will wear my label proudly, and I'll be able to take care of Mama so that she won't have to work anymore. Oh, and while I'm in Italy, I'll go to Rome and throw a coin in Trevi Fountain and make a wish. That way, I'll always be able to return." _

_"It sounds like you have big plans," Ethan said with a smile. He couldn't help but smile when he was around her. Her enthusiasm and her spirit were refreshing and infectious. She saw things from such a unique perspective, it was hard not to get caught up in it, too._

_"Oh, I do. And it's going to happen. You just wait and see. Who knows? Maybe I'll even see Luigi while I'm there," she added with a wink._

Ethan ran his fingers through his hair.

"What have I done?"

For years, he'd been in denial.

He'd put on a show for anyone watching that everything was alright.

He'd played a part, just as his parents had done for so long.

He'd been married to one woman while he dreamed of another.

It wasn't fair; it wasn't right.

_He wanted to be with Theresa. _

It was what he had always wanted.

Only Theresa could bring out the side of him that he was too afraid for others to see, the side that allowed Luigi or Elvis to exist.

Only Theresa could know everything there was to know about him and still support him.

Only Theresa could make his heart race and make him as nervous as a school boy.

Only Theresa could take the ordinary and turn it into something extraordinary.

_Only Theresa could complete him_.

The realization hit Ethan like a ton of bricks. What was he doing? It wasn't right to stay in a marriage that shouldn't have happened in the first place. It wasn't right to string Gwen along with promises of a future when he dreamed of having a future with someone else. It wasn't right to break her heart over and over again.

He needed to see Gwen, to tell her the truth once and for all. He wasn't sure she would understand; he knew without a doubt that she would be hurt. But wasn't this better in the long run?

_And Resa_.

He wouldn't see the hurt in her eyes any longer.

They would be together.

* * *

Theresa stood in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom and smoothed the black, sleeveless dress she wore. She'd designed it herself, and she desperately hoped that she would impress Drew's family tonight.

He would be there soon to pick her up.

She took a deep breath. It felt strange to go out with him when a part of her was elsewhere. But as time went by, it would get easier. It was just like playing the piano. With practice, it gets easier.

Regardless of her feelings for Ethan, she did care for Drew. He never judged her, never made her feel as though she should be ashamed of anything. He was cavalier, brash. Yet beneath the exterior, she could tell that he was a deep person. Drew might not like for people to scratch the surface, but Theresa knew without a doubt that he was a special person.

Hearing the doorbell ring, Theresa made her way down the stairs.

As she opened the door, Theresa put on her best smile. Drew greeted her with no words, but instead by pulling her into a mind-blowingly passionate kiss.

"What was that for?" Theresa asked finally breaking away from him.

"I wasn't sure we would have the opportunity for that later," he admitted.

A puzzled look crossed Theresa's face. "Why wouldn't we?"

"It's just a feeling I have," Drew replied evasively. "Beauty, you look gorgeous tonight."

"Do you really think so? I really want to impress your family tonight, Drew."

He looped her arms around her waist. "Trust me. When they see you, they are going to be blown away." His words were tinged with a double meaning, one which he noted was lost upon her.

"I really hope so," Theresa replied. "I'm just a little afraid. If your family knows the Cranes, then they'll probably know some rather unflattering things about me."

Drew raised an eyebrow. "My family's not perfect, Theresa, and neither am I."

"Okay. You're right. I just need to calm down."

"That would probably do you some good," Drew said before leaning down to kiss her forehead gently. "Are you about ready to go?"

"About as ready as I'll ever be."

"Shall we?" he asked extending his arm.

She took it and allowed herself to be led from her house.

* * *

Whitney looked up from her magazine at Chad who sat next to her in the Book Café. Seeing the perplexed look on his face, she frowned. "You've been so quiet tonight. Is something wrong?"

Chad shook his head. "Nah. Not really. I was just thinkin' about Ethan and Theresa…and about how lucky we are."

Whitney took his hand. "We _are_ lucky."

"I just wish that Ethan would get over his pride, you know? And that exaggerated sense of responsibility."

"Well, he did make vows to Gwen, Chad. There's nothing wrong with him feeling a sense of responsibility to her. In fact, he _should_ feel a sense of responsibility to Gwen; she's his wife."

"But he and Theresa, they _belong_ together."

Whitney shook her head. "Ethan Crane gave up any claims he had on Theresa the second he turned his back on her and went running back to Gwen. He broke her heart, Chad, and that's not something that I can forget."

"But he regrets it, Whitney."

"My mother regretted her affair with Julian Crane, but that didn't make things right between her and Daddy, now did it?"

"This is completely diff'rent. With Ethan and Theresa, I just get the feelin' that there's more to what happened to them than either of them knows."

"It isn't going to matter for much longer."

"What makes you say that?"

"Theresa is meeting Drew's family tonight."

Chad rubbed his chin. "I hadn't realized that things was that serious b'tween them. Meetin' the fam is a big deal."

"That's right. So this hold that Ethan has managed to reclaim over Theresa isn't going to last for much longer."

"Ethan. You know, poor guy wasn't too enthused about the evening he had planned. He said that he was eatin' with his family tonight and meetin' his brother's new girlfriend."

Whitney and Chad froze, an idea dawning on the both of them.

"Chad, do you remember the name of Ethan's brother?" Whitney asked.

A sinking feeling starting to set in as Chad replied, "Andrew."

"Ethan and the other Cranes are having dinner with Andrew and his girlfriend, and Theresa's going to dinner with Drew Winthrop. Andrew. Drew. Oh my God! Chad, do you think it's possible…."

"Hell ya," Chad muttered. "Theresa's walkin' into a minefield."

* * *

The Crane family sat at a round table at the Seascape, and the silence was deafening. No one wanted to be there.

Julian and Ivy exchanged glances, sneered at each other, and then looked away. They had promised to be on their best behavior, and so far, they were succeeding. It was no easy task, however.

Ethan looked at Gwen. Her hair was pulled up, revealing her sleek neck. Her dress hugged her body perfectly. She looked so beautiful…and so unaware of what he needed to tell her. He'd intended to tell her the truth as soon as he got home that afternoon, but it was almost time to leave for the dinner, and he'd promised Andrew that they would be there. It had seemed so important to his brother, and Ethan didn't want to disappoint him.

But tonight…tonight he would tell Gwen the truth once they went home and had some privacy. Ethan never thought that he would see his marriage end, and it filled him with a sadness. Yet it was something that had to be done.

"He's late," Ivy said, breaking the silence, as she glanced at the watch she wore on her wrist.

"You know Andrew, Ivy," Gwen replied. "He always likes to make an entrance."

"Yes, he does have a flair for the dramatic," Ivy conceded.

Julian downed a glass of brandy before turning to his wife. "Some of us moreso than others, wouldn't you say so, my little chickadee?"

"Yes, Julian, every night that I was in your bed, I think I turned in quite an acting performance."

"We've all become good actors," Ethan interrupted glumly before he could stop himself.

Gwen looked at him and glared. Leaning toward him, she whispered in his ear, "Appearances, Ethan. Appearances."

Ethan sighed. He wouldn't be keeping up appearances for much longer.

Theresa took Drew's hand as she stepped out of his car. He gave the valet the keys, and the two prepared to walk into the Seascape.

"There's no going back, is there?" Theresa asked.

"You'll do fine. In fact, I'm sure you'll feel as though you've known them forever," Drew replied. The time was upon them, and everything he wanted was within his grasp. Well, almost everything.

She intertwined her fingers with his as they walked into the restaurant. Her eyes surveyed the area as she recognized several people from her time spent as Mrs. Crane's secretary. Emma Featherstone was there with her latest husband, her hair still as pink as Theresa remembered. The Atkinsons were there, as well. She had provided a dress for Mrs. Atkinson's granddaughter some time ago for a party they were throwing.

She looked up at Drew and smiled. She had nothing to worry about. He was there, and he would never let anything hurt her. She trusted him implicitly.

They continued walking, and Theresa felt her heart quicken when she saw the Cranes. Ethan and Gwen were there, along with Julian and Ivy. They hadn't seen her yet, though.

_It's natural that we're going to run into one another_, Theresa reasoned. _I'm just going to have to get used to seeing Ethan and Gwen together._

Drew's hold on her hand tightened as they came closer to the Cranes. Theresa felt as though they were going in slow motion, and she wanted to hurry and walk past them.

But she and Drew stopped at the Crane table.

When they did, Theresa thought her heart would stop as well.

Shock registered on the features of Ivy, Gwen, and especially Ethan.

Julian, feeling an intense sense of amusement, lifted his glass of brandy and muttered, "Guess who's coming to dinner."


	51. Chapter 51

Disclaimer: Yep, I still don't own _Passions_ and I'm still not profiting off this story.

* * *

**Chapter Fifty-One: "We're All Adults Here"**

Theresa looked up at Drew, her smile fading. Why wasn't he telling her that it was all a big mistake? Why didn't he tell her that they weren't dining with the Cranes? He _had_ to know what she was thinking….

Yet the look in Drew's turquoise colored eyes told Theresa exactly what she didn't want to know. In fact, what she saw scared her. An air of barely contained glee filled his eyes.

_It was no mistake._

Theresa looked back at the amused face of Julian and the shocked faces of Ivy, Gwen, and Ethan.

Ethan. _Dear God, what must he be thinking?_

The world was tipping on its axis. Of that, Ethan was certain. How could this be happening? His beautiful Resa and _Andrew?_

No. There had to be an explanation! Theresa wouldn't do that to him. Neither would his brother. _Would he?_

"Andrew Crane, what the hell is this?" Ethan demanded.

"Crane." Theresa shook her head and dropped Drew's hand, until that point forgetting that she was still holding it. Everything seemed so surreal. "Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice barely came out as a whisper.

Drew didn't answer her. He didn't have a chance.

Ethan stood. "I asked you a question, and by God, you better have a good answer!"

Drew smiled impishly, reveling in his brother's reaction. He paused dramatically, prolonging the moment. He wanted to savor each second. For almost as long as he could remember, this was what he'd been wanting.

Drew had to admit that it was even more delicious than he thought it would be to see the unraveling of St. Ethan. Ethan had always been the Golden Boy, never knowing what it was to be denied anything. He'd never been denied his parents' love and admiration. He'd never been compared to a saintly older sibling. It was always understood that he was _the_ heir and expectations were always so great for him.

But Drew had just denied Ethan what he wanted most: a future with Theresa.

"Come now, Ethan. Even you aren't _that _disingenuous. I believe you know Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. She's the woman I've been seeing."

Ethan's eyes met Theresa's. He waited for her to refute Andrew's statement, but she said nothing.

_It was true._

Theresa was the woman that Andrew had been seeing, the woman he'd been sleeping with.

Resa and Andrew. _Together._

Ethan silently cursed. It had been staring him in the face the entire time, but he'd been too blind to see it. Catching the scent of Theresa's perfume the night he was talking to Andrew in the garden….Andrew showing up at Theresa's house the other morning….Andrew's little hints that Ethan was just going to _love_ his new girlfriend….

He shook his head. Theresa had been playing him for a fool all along. How she and Andrew must have laughed over that one!

All the time they'd spent together had been a lie.

All that time he'd spent dreaming of her had been a waste. He was dreaming of a woman who didn't exist! The Theresa he loved was never real. It was only the idea of her.

She wasn't his future.

Theresa felt tears well in her eyes as she saw the pain cross Ethan's features. How she wished she could take it away! But perhaps she could make him understand. Yes, if he knew the truth…that she didn't know Drew was his brother….that she would never deliberately pursue a relationship with Drew if she _had_ known….maybe then he wouldn't be upset.

"Ethan-"

Gwen glared at Theresa, unwilling to let her speak. How dare the _other woman_ show her face at their family dinner? She reached up and took Ethan's hand, interrupting Theresa. "Sweetie, sit down. It's not worth making a scene over."

Gwen could see the hurt and anger in his eyes. She hated that Ethan had to go through this, but it was inevitable. The fact of the matter was that Gwen wasn't sure whether to thank Andrew or to strangle him. The very idea that he would bring the former housekeeper's daughter and Ethan's mistress to a family dinner was simply unconscionable. On the other hand, Andrew _had_ single-handedly managed to do what she'd wanted to do all along. He'd managed to drive an insurmountable wedge between Ethan and Theresa. There was no way Theresa would be able to lie her way out of this one….even if it _was_ on her back.

_Theresa_. Gwen rolled her eyes. _What a slut._ And a stupid one at that! One Crane man wasn't enough. She'd managed to snag Ethan _and_ Andrew. Who would be next? Julian?

Alarm started to rise within Ivy as she saw the hardened expressions on the faces of both of her sons. Why would Andrew's bringing Theresa to dinner evoke such a reaction in Ethan? Ivy knew that in the past Ethan and Theresa had been close friends. Ethan had even gone so far as to confide in Theresa about…._things_….he hadn't shared with anyone else. Ivy also knew that Ethan and Theresa had a falling out, one which Ethan regretted very much. Yet the way Ethan was acting…it was almost as if he was in love with her.

Ivy's eyes widened. Ethan's unhappiness, his guilt over Theresa leaving town, his insistence upon defending her to Gwen…all of these had been signs. Why hadn't she seen this before?

Ethan was in love with Theresa, and Andrew was sleeping with her.

It made the situation all the more grave and in need of diffusing. "Gwen's right, Darling," she said to Ethan as soothingly as she could. "Have a seat. You, too, Andrew and Theresa."

Ethan grudgingly sat.

"I can't," Theresa protested as Andrew pulled out her chair. All she wanted to do was get away from Andrew, get Ethan alone, talk to him, and make him understand.

Drew rubbed Theresa's back. "Of course you can," he insisted.

She shrank away from his touch. Who was this man? She thought she knew, but he'd proven himself to be nothing but a liar. She'd asked him point-blank…_point-blank_… if he was a Crane, and he'd stared her straight in the face and denied it. He was so smooth, and she'd desperately wanted to believe in him, to trust him. What a fool she'd been!

"No, I can't!" she hissed.

"Theresa, we're adults. We have nothing to be ashamed of."

Theresa looked at him with confusion. What was he saying? It didn't make any sense. It was almost as though he was implying to those around them that they….

Julian chuckled at his son's statement, thoroughly enjoying the moment. "At least one of us is getting some action." He then glanced at Ethan. "Or, two of you, as it were."

Theresa's jaw dropped. What type of person did they think she was that she would have an affair with both Ethan _and _Andrew?

"Julian!" Ivy hissed.

"Oh tisk, tisk, Ivy. We're all adults here." He glanced at Theresa, running his eyes down her lithe body. He wouldn't mind sampling her goods. He'd always thought that she would be voracious in bed. Apparently both of his sons had found out firsthand. He was going to have to insist that they tell all. "And apparently some participate in more _adult_ activity than others. There's just something about Crane men, isn't there, my little enchilada?"

Gwen had to refrain from smiling at seeing Theresa's obvious discomfort, bordering on panic. _What goes around comes around… _

"I'm with Julian. You do seem to have an affinity for Crane men. You've certainly made the rounds. Brothers, Theresa? How gauche."

"Gwen, that's enough," Ethan said crisply.

Drew shot a dirty look at Gwen. "For once, Ethan and I agree. You're not in a position to talk, Gwenie," he reminded her.

Gwen stiffened and looked at those around her, hoping they wouldn't catch Andrew's meaning.

"Wait! This is all one big misunderstanding! Ethan and I are not having an affair, and Drew and are not together in that way!" Theresa insisted. She then looked at Drew and pleaded. "_Tell them._ Tell them the truth about us."

Drew felt his heart lurch when he looked into her brown eyes swimming in tears that were threatening to spill over. Yet he'd come this far. He wasn't going to back down now.

"They know the truth, Beauty." He spoke to her evenly, calmly, almost as one might speak to a child.

It infuriated her.

"Why did I expect you to do the right thing? You're so accustomed to lying, you don't know the difference between the truth and your lies anymore."

Ethan spoke, his words cold, calculating. "I don't think you're in a position to give a lecture on the virtues of honesty, Theresa. What was this? A plan, a game, the two of you cooked up?"

Theresa looked at Ethan and felt a chill run down her spine. His voice reminded her of that day so long ago in the park when he cut her from his life. The same qualities of coldness and finality were present.

"Ethan, if you ever cared about me at all, listen to me now. I am telling the truth! Andrew is not my lover, and I most certainly am not playing a game with you."

"You're not playing a game?"

"No! Absolutely not!"

Ethan shook his head. "Every word that has come from your mouth since the day we met has been a lie, so you can't tell me that this hasn't been an elaborate game for you. And here I've been, playing the role of the fool yet again." He laughed bitterly.

Theresa lowered her voice and spoke softly. "You are no fool, Ethan. I never lied about my feelings for you." She looked back at Drew. "I'm the one who's been the fool."

Gwen rolled her eyes. Theresa was so tasteless, talking about her feelings for _her _husband right in front of her. Thank heavens Ethan could finally see through her.

"Somehow, I just can't seem to care what you say, Theresa."

"Ethan-"

Ethan thought back to reading Theresa's diary. Discovering that their relationship had only been part of a plan, a ploy, had been difficult. Finding out that Theresa had been sleeping with his half-brother, Noah, had been equally devastating. In fact, it had nearly destroyed him.

Ethan was angry. There was no way around it. His voice rose. "Professing feelings for me while sleeping with my brother just doesn't engender trust. I would think you would have figured that out by now!"

Conversation in the restaurant stopped as everyone turned to look at the spectacle that was the Crane family.

Theresa shook her head in exasperation. How could Ethan do this to her?

"Why do I even bother? Why have I spent the last six years feeling guilty, trying to make amends for the past, trying to repair my reputation? Why do I bother trying to be a good person when all you want to do is find fault? Why have I continued to believe in you when you couldn't even believe in me?"

Ethan swallowed hard. He wanted to believe in her. He truly did. But how could he? After everything that had happened, how could he trust her?

Theresa wiped a stray tear that streaked down her cheek, willing the others not to spill. She was not going to give any of them the satisfaction.

Luis had been right. He'd said that the Cranes were nothing but trouble.

Her mother had been right. She'd said that they would cause nothing but heartache.

If only she had listened…..

Looking around her, Theresa realized that she and the Cranes had garnered quite an audience.

Laughing bitterly, she announced to all listening, "For those of you just joining us, not only am I a liar, but apparently I'm also the whore to the Crane men."

"Concubine has a nicer ring," Julian muttered under his breath.

Ivy sighed, covering her eyes with her right hand. _What a mess_.

Theresa turned back to those at the Crane table. "I am sick to death of all of your posturing and condescension. As far as I'm concerned, all of you can go to hell."

She started to walk away, but Drew grabbed her arm.

"Theresa."

She jerked away from him. "Stay away from me, Andrew Crane, or I will not be responsible for what I do!"

She spoke with such fierceness, Drew did as she said. Squaring her shoulders and holding her head high, Theresa walked from the dining room.

Watching her go, Drew regretted that she'd been hurt. _There are always casualties of war_, he reminded himself. He then turned his attention back to the matter at hand.

Sitting at the table with his family, he took the cloth napkin and placed it on his lap. "So what is everyone ordering?"

He was greeted with silent stares.

"I see you haven't decided yet," he said in response to their silence.

Finally, Ivy spoke. "Andrew, what _was_ that display?" She had the uneasy feeling that the scene had been orchestrated by her son. But why? Why would Andrew purposely try to hurt Ethan like that?

"Well, it was the precursor to our family dinner. We couldn't have a Crane family dinner without some type of display. It's a tradition."

"Yes, how tepid dinner would be without our traditions," Julian replied before taking a drink of his wine.

How Julian had been dreading the evening, but it had turned out to be quite entertaining after all. However, he had the feeling that once his father caught wind of what had happened, he would be none too pleased. Alistair Crane did not like for members of his family to be embroiled in public displays of fallibility.

Ethan glared at his brother. "How can you be so casual? Don't you even care that Theresa, the woman you've told me repeatedly that you care about, left here upset?"

Drew raised an eyebrow and yawned. "She doesn't want to see me right now. Of course, the beauty of it is that she doesn't want to see _you_, either."

Ethan's eyes widened as the realization struck him. Theresa didn't have anything to do with tonight's shenanigans. He'd made terrible accusations, but she had been innocent! "This was all a set-up, and it was all _your _doing!"

"Andrew, how could you?" Ivy asked in stunned disappointment.

Drew ignored his mother. He was used to her disapproval. "Go ahead and tell yourself that if it will ease your conscience."

"At least I have a conscience!" Ethan shot back.

Nonchalantly, Drew replied, "Don't be selfish, Ethan. I know you've never liked to share, but she's too good _not_ to share."

With blood boiling, Ethan lunged across the table, throwing his fist, hitting Drew squarely in the jaw.

Both Gwen and Ivy gasped.

The force of Ethan's strike sent Drew's chair backward. From the ground, Drew looked up at Ethan, rubbing his jaw. Though it hurt, he smiled. "I didn't think you had it in you, Golden Boy."

The other diners turned and watched the brewing battle that was interrupting their meal.

Ethan stood and walked to Drew, reaching down, grabbing him by the shirt, and pulling him up. "There's plenty more where that came from," Ethan growled.

Drew pried Ethan's hands off of him. "I've been waiting a long time for this," he said, taking his own punch, sending Ethan flying into the neighboring table.

Ethan quickly regained his balance and tackled Andrew.

Ivy, watching in horror as her sons fought, grabbed Julian's arm. "Julian, do something!"

Julian looked at her like she was a mad woman. "Get in the middle of an altercation? And risk this face? I don't think so, Ivy."

"You coward!" Ivy hissed. "Waiter! _Waiter_!"

Julian couldn't help but smile at his wife's distress. "And to think that they were worried about _our_ behavior," he mused.


	52. Chapter 52

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Passions. I'm not making a profit. Etc. Etc.

**Author's Note: **Thanks for the reviews and for those of you who are still following this story.

* * *

**Chapter Fifty-Two: "Own Worst Enemies"**

Theresa stood outside of the Seascape and looked up at the night sky.

_Why? _

She felt her heart crying out. _How it hurt!_

The familiar tears were stinging her eyes, but she refused to shed them. She'd shed enough tears over Ethan Crane.

Why did she continually allow herself to get sucked back in? Why did she still want to believe in him so desperately? He'd certainly expressed in the harshest terms possible what he thought of her. She would never forget the look of recrimination marring his handsome features.

_Why?_

_Why couldn't you believe in me, Ethan? _

_Why?_

"Theresa, there you are!" It was Whit's voice.

Theresa turned her head and saw Whitney and Chad rushing toward her.

"Girl, don't go in there!" Chad instructed. "Get ready for a shocker. We think that Drew might be a Crane."

Theresa shrugged. "Too late," she replied quietly. "And you were right to be suspicious. I should have been more careful! I never should have trusted Drew…or Ethan, for that matter."

Whitney smoothed Theresa's hair. "Sweetie, what happened?"

"Yeah? What's this about my man Ethan?" Chad asked.

Theresa shook her head. Some things she just wasn't ready to share yet. "I don't want to talk about it. Can we just go?"

"Of course," Whitney replied soothingly as she took Theresa's hand. Feeling the clamminess, she began to rub it between the two of hers. She was worried. Something in Theresa's tone frightened her. She rarely heard her friend sound so resigned.

Chad glanced through the glass doors of the restaurant. He looked back at Whitney and lightly touched her face. "Take good care of her. There's something I need to do."

Whitney nodded and mouthed _I love you_ before Chad headed inside.

* * *

When Chad went inside the Seascape, he was greeted by a sight he never thought he would see: a fight in a ritzy restaurant with Ethan Crane right in the middle of it.

He shook his head. Ethan certainly was full of surprises.

Chad looked around him. Julian was still sitting at his table, watching the events unfold. Gwen and Ivy were holding onto each other. Others watched, stunned by what they were seeing. A few were already on the phone with their closest friends telling them about the scuffle between the Crane brothers.

Chad's brown eyes met Ivy Crane's fear-filled blue ones. They pleaded with him. _Do something. _

"Ah hell," Chad muttered as he grabbed hold of Ethan from behind and pulled him away from Andrew. A waiter similarly took hold of Drew.

"Can't leave you alone for five minutes, can I, Man?" Chad joked.

Ethan wasn't listening to his friend. All he wanted was to get his hands around his brother's neck. How could Andrew have used Theresa like that? And how could he have fallen for it?

The truth of the matter was that Ethan was even angrier with himself. How could he have treated her like that?

But it was now obvious to Ethan that Andrew had been banking on a strong reaction from him.

Andrew had certainly gotten what he wanted.

Ethan tried to pull away from Chad, but Chad wasn't going to let go so easily. "Chill man. Just chill."

When Chad felt some of the tension leave Ethan's body, he released his friend. "You okay?"

Ethan nodded. "Fine," he replied tersely, still glaring at his brother.

Gwen made her way to her husband's side and gingerly touched his face. His right cheek was beginning to show signs of a nasty bruise, and his hair was disheveled. Ethan jerked away from her touch, as though he had been burned.

Ivy rubbed her forehead. "What a mess!" she exclaimed. Looking at her sons, she cried out, "Whatever possessed you to go at each other like that? You're supposed to be brothers!"

"Tell that to Andrew who has done everything in his ability to try to hurt me."

"No excuses, Ethan," Ivy snapped.

"Mother's right, Ethan," Drew replied in a smug tone as he took out a handkerchief and wiped the blood that was trickling from his lip. "I merely showed up with my date, and you railed into me. _You're_ the one who attacked _me_. There are no excuses."

Chad pointed his finger at Andrew. "Nah, man. Don't even go there. You know, you're real lucky that _I_ don't kick your ass for what you did tonight. I mean, how could you do it? Theresa was an innocent in all of this, and you dragged her through the mud."

Gwen looked at Chad and rolled her eyes. She was wondering how long it would take Ethan's friend to start trying to push the two of them together again.

It was a new record.

Andrew looked pointedly at Ethan. "I'm not the one who dragged her through the mud, am I, Brother?"

Ethan felt his face grow hot. He knew that he had done more harm to her than Drew _ever _could. Her words still rang through his mind.

_"Why do I even bother? Why have I spent the last six years feeling guilty, trying to make amends for the past, trying to repair my reputation? Why do I bother trying to be a good person when all you want to do is find fault? Why have I continued to believe in you when you couldn't even believe in me?"_

Ethan groaned_. I should have believed in you, Theresa. I promised myself that I would never hurt you again, and that's exactly what I've done._

Ethan remembered Emmaline Wilson's admonition to him_. Be gentle, Ethan Crane. _Yet he'd been the opposite. He had been cold and harsh.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Chad asked Ethan. His friend was being strangely silent.

"What it means is that I was a bastard tonight, and I need to find Theresa."

Gwen gasped and Ethan looked at her. "Ethan, you _can't_!" she protested.

Her heart ached. Ethan wasn't even bothering to deny his feelings for Theresa anymore! A night that had started out with such promise was about to go down in smoke.

"I'm sorry, Gwen, but this is something I need to do," Ethan explained gently. He then turned to his mother and father. "Will you see Gwen home tonight?"

Frowning, Julian replied, "Naturally. We Cranes take care of our own." He stood and pulled his son aside. "As delectable as Theresa is, you must know that it is poor form to leave your wife's side to traipse after your mistress."

"First of all, Theresa is _not_ my mistress. Secondly, don't you think you were showing poor form by taking so much delight in tonight's events, Father?"

"Well, I-" Julian bumbled.

Ethan didn't wait for Julian's explanation. He turned to Chad. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah man. Whitney was takin' Theresa home, so I bet we can catch up with them."

Gwen watched helplessly as her husband and his best friend left.

Drew came to her side and whispered in her ear. "I wouldn't worry too much, Gwenie. A snowball has a better chance of withstanding hell's fires than Ethan has of getting Theresa to forgive him for this."

She sighed. "I hope you're right."

* * *

"I'll have you home really soon, Theresa," Whitney said as they pulled out of the parking lot at the restaurant.

Theresa said nothing. She just stared at the road ahead.

Whitney nervously chewed her bottom lip. She had no idea of what to say, but felt she should say something. All she knew was she wanted to skin Andrew _and _Ethan alive.

Finally, Theresa spoke. "Whit, I don't want to go home," she announced.

Whitney furrowed her brows as she glanced at her friend. "Okay. That's fine. Where do you want to go?"

"I want to go dancing."

"Dancing?" Whitney asked, her voice tinged with incredulity.

Theresa nodded. "If I go home, I'll cry, Whitney. I-I promised myself that I would never cry over Ethan again."

"What _happened_?"

Theresa took a deep breath. "I guess you could say that I found out just how little Ethan thinks of me. Drew made them all think that he and I were sleeping together."

Whitney's jaw clenched. "Oh my God."

"Ironic, isn't it? I mean, I've never even _been_ with a man in that way, and here I am, the town tramp. The look on Ethan's face…." Theresa paused, trying to erase Ethan's image from her mind. "Whit, he was disgusted with me. He thought that I had been playing him for a fool, that it was all a game to me. He actually believed that I had pursued his brother just to hurt him! He wouldn't listen to me…wouldn't believe me."

"Theresa, I'm so sorry," Whitney said earnestly.

"So am I, Whit. You know, a part of me is angry that I've spent so many years loving Ethan. I keep trying to tell myself that it was a waste, but…."

"But you can't make yourself feel that way," Whitney supplied.

Theresa slowly shook her head. "I wish I could…. It certainly would make things easier."

"What are you going to do about Drew?"

"What do you mean?" Theresa asked. "If you're asking whether I would still see him, the answer is a resounding no! If I ever see him again, it will be too soon. How dare he play with my life like that, make me trust him, make me care about him…. No, Whit. He was using me to hurt a man that I love, and I cannot and will not tolerate that."

"Ethan is going to realize what his brother has done," Whitney said.

"Whit, he and I will never be together even _if_ he does realize that Drew was lying. He is married to Gwen, and Ethan takes his wedding vows very seriously." She sighed. "It's like we're our own worst enemies. He doesn't trust me, and I don't trust him anymore. And what is love without trust?"

The two friends rode in silence until they reached Brazen. When Whitney turned off the ignition, she turned to Theresa. "I still can't believe you want to do this. Are you sure?"

"I'm all dressed up. I might as well go somewhere. Besides, I need to forget. I just really need to forget that this night ever happened."

_Easier said than done_, thought Whitney. Yet she smiled at her friend and said, "Okay. Let's go have fun."

* * *

Ethan leaned his head against Theresa's front door and sighed. Chad patted his back.

"No one's home, Ethan. We'd best go."

Ethan turned back to Chad. "Where could she be? I-I can't just leave things the way they are between us."

"We'll find 'er. Don't worry," Chad replied.

Ethan took a deep breath and nodded. He felt like a despicable person. Why was he so willing to believe the worst about Theresa? He hadn't even given her the benefit of the doubt.

The look he'd seen in her luminous brown eyes was indescribable. It went beyond pain, beyond disbelief. It haunted him.

_I still believe in you._

He sighed. Theresa's words were never far from his mind. She'd intruded on his dreams for six years, always so close, but always unattainable. Like a phantom, she evaded him, teased him, tempted him.

Just as in his dreams she eluded him, she eluded him in life, as well.

It was sheer torture.

* * *

Gwen sat stiffly in the back of the limousine with Ivy and Julian. Quietly staring straight ahead, she was, in fact, fighting the urge to scream.

She was tired. So very tired.

Why did she continue fighting? Why did she continue to grasp at Ethan when he was only slipping through her fingers?

She'd devoted fifteen years of her life to Ethan Crane.

_Fifteen years. _

She done things she'd promised herself she'd never do. She'd become what she promised herself she would never be.

She'd become her mother.

A lump formed in her throat as she closed her eyes. She could almost see Ethan as she saw him that first day they officially met. Sure, she'd heard of Ethan Crane. Who hadn't? But when their eyes met across the crowded ballroom, she felt the immediate connection. Even at the tender age of fifteen, she knew then and there that he would become her husband.

When he smiled at her and asked her to dance, she wasn't sure her legs would be able to support her. Yet he guided her so expertly, and there was a genuine goodness about him that she found lacking in so many of the other boys in their social set.

How could their sweet, precious relationship have evolved into something so tarnished and fragile?

She knew she wasn't a perfect wife. She'd done plenty of things she regretted. But how does one live up to an idea? And yet that was what she was fighting against. Ethan's perception of Theresa, which was so very different from the real thing, kept him chained to her despite everything. Despite the forged diary entries, despite the fact she showed up to their family dinner with Ethan's brother, Ethan was still drawn to her.

_How do I fight against that?_

_Do I even _want_ to fight against that anymore? _

Ivy looked at her daughter-in-law, and her heart went out to Gwen. Ivy knew all too acutely what it was to have a marriage in shambles. She reached over and took one of Gwen's hands.

"Are you okay?"

"No," she replied simply.

Ivy hesitated. Should she probe further? Her hesitation lasted for only a few seconds before she continued. "Gwen, I spoke to Ethan earlier today. I've noticed that things have been strained between the two of you lately. Darling, he assured me that he is not having an affair. In fact, he told me that you were the only woman he's ever been with."

Julian rolled his eyes. "A monogamous Crane? _Please._"

"Ethan is nothing like _you_, Julian!" Ivy hissed. _He is Sam's son, through and through. He's good, decent, honest. _

Gwen shook her head. "Julian is right. All the signs have been staring me in the face for so long. And then when he took off with Chad to find Theresa…," her voice trailed off. "Ivy, I know that you and Ethan have a very close relationship, but there are certain things that a child won't tell his parents, especially if that child wants to maintain a parent's approval."

Ivy protested. "It's not like that with Ethan and me. He knows that I love him more than anything in the world. I've only ever wanted his happiness."

"And if he chooses to pursue happiness with someone other than me?" Gwen looked away from Ivy, not wanting to see her mother-in-law, not wanting to hear her response.

Ivy sighed. She cared about Gwen. She truly did. But Ethan was her son, her only link to the love of her life. She would support him in any decision he made. Ivy knew firsthand that love was not something to be trifled with; it was too precious.

Gwen stared out the window, her reflection staring back at her on the glass.

There had to be something she could do to ensure her future with Ethan. There had to be something that would tie her to him, something that Theresa would not give him.

Of course, she knew what that something was.

Gwen wanted a baby. _Desperately._ She wanted to carry Ethan's child. She wanted to hold that child in her arms, a child that would always love her no matter what, and see aspects of the man she loved.

She'd secretly stopped taking her birth control pills a few weeks ago. Yet it didn't do her any good when Ethan wouldn't so much as touch her anymore.

There _had_ to be something she could do!

A small smile formed on her face. There _was_ something.

* * *

Whitney frowned as she watched Theresa down a tequila before making her way to the dance floor at Brazen.

What a night it had turned out to be.

She shook her head. It was only one in a rather long series of long nights the two friends had shared over the years. The problems used to be so much simpler, though, and could usually be fixed with an ice cream consolation dinner.

Not anymore.

She was ready to tear into Ethan for what he'd done to her friend. She knew that both Chad and Theresa thought that Ethan was an honorable man, but Whitney wasn't so sure anymore. He was married! He shouldn't be involved with Theresa in even the smallest way considering their past. And the truth of the matter was that if he had any decency, he wouldn't jerk her friend around the way he did.

It bothered Whit that Ethan seemed to wield so much power over Theresa.

The ringing of her cell phone interrupted Whitney's thoughts. Still keeping an eye on her friend who immediately attracted a dance partner, Whit reached in her purse and fished out her phone.

"Hello?" she said over the music in the background.

"Whitney, it's Chad. Where are you?"

"At Brazen."

"I shoulda guessed. I can hear the music playin'. Theresa with you?"

"Yeah, she is."

"Good, we're on our way," Chad said quickly before hanging up.

"We?" Whitney asked.

Too late. Chad was already gone.

Whitney groaned. "What have I done?"

* * *

Eyes closed, body swaying, Theresa moved to the music. Letting its rhythm and beat wash over her, she sighed. She didn't want to feel anything but the music. Nothing else.

So immersed in her own thoughts, she barely noticed that she'd gained a partner. It wasn't an uncommon practice in Brazen for complete strangers to just start dancing together. She thought nothing of it, only that she wanted to lose herself. She didn't want to hurt anymore.

It was time to make a fresh start.

No more entanglements with any of the Cranes.

She would concentrate on the good things in her life. Her business was flourishing, she was surrounded by friends and family, she had a beautiful home….

Crystal blue eyes invaded her thoughts. A smile; _his _smile. Lips that she longed to touch with her own.

She groaned. She didn't want to think about him anymore. She had promised herself!

_And just how many promises have I broken in my lifetime? _she asked herself._ What's one more?_

And she let thoughts of Ethan pour over her. At one time, things had been so simple between them. At the heart of their relationship had been a wonderful friendship based on discovery, common interests, a similar sense of humor, and yes….trust. They'd been able to share parts of themselves with each other that no one else had seen. Both of them had issues with their fathers; Ethan with his true parentage and Theresa with her doubts about her father ever coming home. They had been a comfort to each other when no one else could comfort them.

_So how did we get to this point?_

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't push him from her mind.

_I wonder if you're thinking of me, too._

She sighed._ Don't kid yourself_, Theresa thought. _He's probably at home with Gwen working on Project Baby, as Gwen called it earlier today._

What would it be like to see Ethan and Gwen with a child….their child?

She quickly pushed the thought from her mind and opened her eyes, looking at the man with whom she was towered over her and was quite handsome with his chiseled features. Yet there was something in his dark eyes that made Theresa uneasy. They had this twinkle of mischief that reminded her of Drew.

She shuddered.

"You cold?" His hands slipped to her rear end, pulling her against him. "I could think of ways to warm you up," he said suggestively.

Theresa felt her stomach turn when he touched her. "I'm not interested."

She tried pushing away from him, but he only pulled her to him more tightly. "All right. We can play this game. You protest….and I'll insist."

"I don't play games. Now let go of me."

"Nah, babe. I've been watching you since you got here. You're gonna be going home with me tonight."

Alarm started to rise in Theresa. "I said, LET GO!"

"You heard the lady. Let her go."

_That voice_. A wave of relief washed over Theresa when she saw Ethan.

The man's features twisted at the interruption. He turned to see who it was that had dared to cut in on his conquest, ready to pounce if necessary. Yet his demeanor changed dramatically when he saw who it was that had interfered.

"Mr. Crane, I-I didn't realize it was you," the man stammered. Immediately, he released Theresa.

Ethan glared at him. "I recognize you. Don't you work at Crane Industries?"

"Y-yes, Sir."

"Your name?" Ethan demanded.

"Jeff. Jeff Reels."

"Well, Jeff Reels, consider yourself on notice. If you so much as breathe wrong, you will be out of the company so fast, your head will spin."

"Y-yes, Sir."

"Now, I believe you owe this young lady an apology."

Jeff looked at Theresa. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so insistent."

With that, he quickly left.

Ethan looked back at Theresa and touched her arm. "Are you okay? I was so worried when I saw-"

"Fine," Theresa replied crisply interrupting him as she pulled away from his touch. "I am fine. I don't need you, Ethan."

"But _I_ need _you_, Theresa."

She shook her head in disbelief. "Somehow, I just can't seem to care."

With that, she started to walk away from him, making her way through the crowd.

Ethan followed.


	53. Chapter 53

**Disclaimer: ** Really? We're 53 chapters in. Haven't I disclaimed enough?** :D**

* * *

**Chapter Fifty-Three: "Misery Loves Company"**

"Theresa, please wait!" Ethan called after her.

She continued walking away from him.

"Please, Theresa."

Angrily, she spun around. "What do you want from me, Ethan? Why can't you just _go_?"

"Because I can't leave this alone."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, I think we can leave this one alone. I'm done, Ethan. Do you hear me? _Done_." With that, she continued walking, making her way to the bar.

"Tequila," she said to the bartender.

Ethan was fast on her trail. "I didn't know you drank the hard stuff," he said as he observed her.

Truth be told, she rarely drank alcohol, let alone hard liquor. Of course, she wasn't going to let him know that. Squaring her shoulders, she replied coolly, "Apparently, there's a lot about me that you don't know."

"Then tell me, Theresa."

"It's not worth it anymore," she replied harshly.

"Then please listen to me. Theresa, I was wrong."

She nearly choked as the alcohol slid down her burning throat. "What?"

"I was wrong. _So wrong_! I never should have doubted you or spoken to you the way I did. I should have trusted you."

"Then why couldn't you? Why couldn't you, just once, believe in me?"

"I-I know I should have. I was just caught so unaware. For months, Andrew has been talking about a woman he was crazy about. He painted a rather vivid picture." That was an understatement. Andrew had taken every opportunity to describe his relationship, supplying more details than Ethan even cared to know. "And when I saw you with him…." His voice trailed off.

Ethan shuddered. He still remembered how it felt as though the world were crashing in around him when he saw his Resa walk in the restaurant with Andrew. When he thought of his brother holding her, kissing her, touching her….it was a crushing blow. And for those brief instants when he thought that Theresa had willingly gone along with Andrew's dinner scheme, Ethan thought his heart might stop.

Theresa felt her own heart lurch. She remembered the hurt on Ethan's face; the shock, the disappointment, the raw emotions, the pain. If he'd only believed in her instead of listening to his brother or jumping to conclusions!

No. Sorry wasn't good enough.

She was tired of the roller coaster.

She was tired of always feeling as though she was under suspicion for something….something that she couldn't even put her finger on.

She was just _tired_.

Lifting her hand, she said quietly, "I-I can't listen to this right now."

Defeated, Ethan watched as she turned away from him once again. This time, he did not follow.

* * *

"I still can't believe you would bring him here," Whitney said, arms crossed, glaring at Chad.

Chad shrugged nonchalantly. He knew that Whitney was going to be upset with him. He'd been prepared. "Well, Brazen is a public place. There's nothin' wrong with Ethan bein' here."

"Nothing wrong? Nothing _wrong_? You do know what he did to Theresa tonight, don't you?"

"I know, Whit. I know."

"Then how can you be so calm about it? What on earth possessed you to take it upon yourself to bring him here just so that he can make her even more miserable?"

"Maybe it's 'cause misery loves company," Chad replied with a grin.

"That's not funny, and your attempt, might I add _lame_ attempt, at humor is not going to cause me to change this subject. Theresa needs distance from Ethan Crane. She does not need that man breathing down her neck."

"Whitney, what makes you think you're such an expert when it comes to love? What makes you think you know what Ethan and Theresa need?"

"I know that if you love someone, you don't treat that person the way Ethan treated Theresa tonight."

"It's the people that we love who have the ability to hurt us the most. You know what I'm sayin'? That's one of the chances you gotta take. It's like takin' the bad with the good. But we know better than anyone else just how good love can be."

"It's not the same, Chad. It's not the same at all! Ethan doesn't even have any business being near Theresa in the first place. He is a married man."

Chad shook his head. "He shoulda never married Gwen."

"That's not for you to say," Whitney shot back.

Chad's eyebrows shot up. "Has either Ethan _or_ Theresa been happy without each other?"

"Theresa was happy with Chuck. There is no doubt in my mind about that."

"But in the back of her mind, there was always Ethan. Same thing with Ethan. Sure, he's tried to make a go of his marriage. He's tried to do right by Gwen, but he's never been able to get Theresa out of his system."

"But don't you understand, Chad? Ethan and Theresa are _destructive_ to one another. They're like…." She paused, searching for the right words. "….gasoline and fire. Sure, without a doubt, the chemistry is there. Yet if you light that gasoline, the explosion is likely to incinerate everything in its path. That's why I think that Theresa and Ethan don't need to be anywhere near each other. They are _destructive_."

"Nah, Whit. They ain't. In fact, I'm gonna prove it to you."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You'll see," Chad replied cryptically.

* * *

Theresa sat in a corner table and could still feel Ethan's gaze upon her. She wanted to go to him. He already thought the worst of her. So what was the point of trying to remain virtuous? Why not just walk up to him and tell him that she wanted him….and that she would take him any way she could get him?

She groaned. _That has to be the alcohol talking. I still have my standards. Why would I even want to be with someone who doesn't trust me?_

No, she wasn't about to go to him.

_Maybe I should just go home_.

"Hey, Theresa," Chad said approaching her table.

Her friend's voice immediately jolted Theresa from her thoughts.

"Hi Chad," she replied quietly.

Chad placed his hands on the table and leaned over, whispering conspiratorially. "I hate to bother you, but I need your help."

_Good! Something to take my mind off of Ethan!_

"What can I help you with, Chad?"

He looked around him, as if to see if anyone was listening in. "Well, it's like this. I, um, got Whitney a little upset. I was hopin' you could talk to her. You know, smooth things over?"

Theresa shook her head. "I don't know. Somehow, I don't think I'm the right person to be giving advice on relationships."

"But you're her best friend. She listens to you. Besides, you got that girl talk thing goin' on, and that's not somethin' I can compete with. Hell, I'm not even sure that's somethin' I _want _to compete with."

"Fine. Where is she?"

"She's goin' into my office. She said for you to meet her there."

"Okay. I'll go and see her."

"Thanks a bunch, T. You don't know what this means."

Theresa had a strange feeling when Chad said those words but tried to dismiss it.

Standing, she walked back through the crowd and down the corridor. The sound of the music grew lighter as she came to a door marked 'Private.' Without hesitation, she opened the door and let herself into her friend's office.

Whitney was nowhere to be found. "I'll just wait a minute," she said aloud.

* * *

Watching Theresa disappear through the crowd, Chad headed toward his best friend.

"Ethan, you hangin' in there?"

"I suppose," he replied, his eyes straining to catch a glimpse of Theresa.

"You'll be doin' better than that if I have anything to say. Now, don't ask questions, but I want you to go my office. There's someone there waitin' for you."

"Chad, what is-"

"No questions. Remember? Now come on. Let's get goin'."

* * *

Sitting on the leather couch, Theresa glanced at her surroundings. Chad's office was, without question, indefinably _Chad_. The walls were painted a deep plumb color, accented by replicas of tribal masks that hung on the walls. A desk was stashed in the corner, covered with papers. Theresa also noticed several photos of Whitney.

The sound of the door opening grabbed Theresa's attention. She looked toward the door, expecting to see Whitney. Instead, she saw Ethan.

He walked in, surprise etching his features. "Theresa, I didn't-"

He cut his sentence short when he heard the door slam behind him and the sound of a key turning in the lock.

Theresa practically leaped from where she sat and bolted to the door. The knob wouldn't turn. She groaned and began beating on it. "Chad, let me out! _Chad! Let me out!_"

From the other side of the door, she and Ethan could hear their friend chuckling. "Nah. You guys need to work it out, and you aren't gettin' outta there 'til you do."

Theresa turned around and glared at Ethan. "You did this!"

Ethan held up his hands, protesting his innocence. "Theresa, you know Chad. He does what he wants to do." Still, he couldn't help the smile that started to form at the corners of his mouth.

_Thank you, Chad!_

Theresa crossed her arms. "You don't look too upset about it," she noted.

"That's because I'm not upset," Ethan replied.

He closed the distance between them, and gently touched her face, tracing the contours of her cheek. He waited for her to pull away. Surprisingly, she didn't.

Theresa felt her breath catch within her, and her eyes fluttered closed. Being close to him, feeling his touch, was almost enough to make her forget all that had passed between them.

She opened her eyes, looking back at him, her brown eyes meeting his blue ones.

"Please, Theresa. Talk to me. Tell me what you're thinking."

Slowly, quietly, she spoke. "Dios me ayuda, pero te amo, Ethan. Pero no puedo olvidar este noche o los seis años que pasado." _God help me, but I love you, Ethan. But I cannot forget this night or the last six years._

Ethan felt his heart pounding. He wasn't entirely sure what Theresa said, but the way she spoke, the softness of her voice, stirred a flurry of emotions.

For nearly six years, he'd been separated from her.

And it had been his own doing.

His own foolish pride.

His own unwillingness to listen to her, to believe in her.

"What have I done?" he whispered, his voice catching in his throat.

Theresa felt dangerously drawn to him, and she knew that she needed to put some distance between them. She needed to get out of that office.

Hurriedly, she moved away from him, and swept the room with her gaze.

She wanted a way out.

Any way out.

Surveying her surroundings, she saw that there were no windows. However, she did notice another door. Walking to it, she stood before it whispering, "Please, please, please."

Turning its knob, she pulled it open. She was disappointed to find that it was only a closet.

She groaned and made her way to the door through which they'd both entered. Again, she found herself trying to turn the doorknob. It was no use. The keyhole was on the other side, and it was becoming quite obvious that Chad meant what he said. He wasn't going to open the door.

Ethan watched her as she walked to Chad's desk and began riffling through the drawers. "There has to be something in here…." she muttered.

"What are you looking for?" Ethan asked.

"A screwdriver, a nail file, a letter opener, anything that will help me to unfasten the screw in the doorknob and get out of here."

"You know, there are worse things that could happen than being locked in here with me…." Ethan said. He was trying not be so amused by Theresa and the way she was handling their plight, but he couldn't help himself. She was treating the situation as though she was in prison, bound and determined to break out.

Theresa might have been in a hurry to get out of there, but Ethan would have been happy to stay locked up with her forever.

She shot a glance at him. "Are you just going to stand there and watch, or are you going to help me?"

With a twinkle in his eyes, he replied, "Well, with things being as they are, I'm happy to just stand here and watch."

"How can you be so flippant? Doesn't it bother you in the least that Chad has _locked_ us in here?" She continued rummaging through the desk drawers.

Ethan shook his head. "Not at all."

She seemingly ignored him and mumbled, "Nothing. Nothing at all!" when she was unable to find anything useful.

Pulling a pin from her hair, she walked to the door and tried to use it to loosen the screws.

Watching Theresa's creative attempt at finding a solution to the problem, Ethan couldn't help but smile. "Who are you? MacGuyver?"

The flimsy metal pin bent between her fingers, useless.

Angrily, she looked back at him, her raw emotions spilling over. "For all you know, I could be! Of course, you wouldn't know that, would you? You seem to like to jump to conclusions, Ethan, but have you even bothered to look at the real me? No. It's all about accusations with you now, just as it was almost six years ago!"

The smile faded from his face. Theresa's words hurt, but he deserved it. Perhaps it was better to just everything out in the open, once and for all.

Taking a deep breath, he said, "I suppose this is where broken trust comes into play."

"I am just tired, Ethan. I'm tired of apologizing for the past, tired of being made to feel as though I'm a pariah. I'm _not_."

"I know, Theresa."

"Do you, Ethan? Do you even know why I am so upset with you? Do you even have any inkling of what is going through my mind right now?" She paused. "No, I don't suppose you do. Ethan, I _believed_ in you. With every ounce of my being, I loved you and entrusted my heart to you. And all you want to do is find fault with me! Why? What happened to change things between us? You can't tell me it was just finding out that I'd had feelings for you longer than you'd originally thought or because I never went out with Chuck before moving to New York. There's more, and I want to know what it is!"

Ethan took a deep breath. Memories flooded his mind….the words he read in Theresa's diary. Her own admission that she had been playing him for a fool, that she'd been sleeping with Noah Bennett. They were memories that he had tried so unsuccessfully to block out.

Yet the time had come.

It was time to lay all the cards on the table.

"You're right. There _is_ more." The old hurt and anger started to swell inside of him. "You want to know why I was so ready to accept Andrew's lies? You want to know why I couldn't allow myself to believe in you when I should have? It was because I _did_ believe in you, Theresa, and my belief in you nearly destroyed me in the process!"


	54. Chapter 54

**Chapter Fifty-Four: "Tonight and the Rest of Our Lives"**

_"You're right. There is more. You want to know why I was so ready to accept Andrew's lies? You want to know why I couldn't allow myself to believe in you when I should have? It was because I did believe in you, Theresa, and my belief in you nearly destroyed me in the process!"_

Theresa cringed when she heard Ethan's words. She shook her head and spoke, her voice full of pain. "Ethan, I don't understand! What do you mean? How could believing in me _destroy_ you?"

Ethan turned away from her. He wasn't sure he would be able to speak if he continued to look into her luminous brown eyes so filled with hurt.

Taking a deep breath, he willed all the emotions that were crashing in on him to go away. He needed to keep his composure, to remain calm. It was just so hard, even six years later, to speak of it. It was difficult to face the fact that everything he had believed to be true about this woman he loved was wrong.

Theresa sensed Ethan's hesitation and reached out to touch his arm. "Please, Ethan. _Please_."

Finally, Ethan turned around and spoke. "I learned the truth about you, Theresa."

"I already know that you learned about the Chuck lie and-"

"That's not it. I learned everything else."

Theresa swallowed hard. The haunted look in Ethan's eyes filled her heart with dread. "I don't understand. There _was_ nothing else!"

Ethan crossed his arms, anger creeping into his voice. "Are you honestly going to stand there and tell me that there was nothing or _no one_ else? That I had no other reason to feel betrayed by you?"

"What are you talking about? Ethan, there was _never_ anyone else for me but you! I _lived_ and _breathed _you!"

Theresa spoke with such force and certainly, Ethan found himself wanting to believe the words she said. Yet how could he? How could he believe her when he'd seen with his own eyes the words she wrote in her diary?

"No, you didn't, Theresa."

Theresa felt tears sting her eyes. She remembered all-too-well how it felt when Ethan cut her from his life. It crushed her. Ethan had been her existence, and it took a long time for her to rebuild her life.

"How can you say that to me? A part of me _died_ the day you turned your back on me!"

"I suppose a part of me died that day, too, though in a different way. The blind trust I put in people is gone. I'm more careful now about whom I trust."

Theresa rubbed her forehead. "What do you think I did?"

Ethan glared at her. "Are you really going to play this game with me, Theresa?"

"I'm not playing a game! What is this all about?"

"I read your diary," he blurted out.

Theresa felt her cheeks redden. All of her hopes and dreams had gone into her diary. It was a little embarrassing to know he'd read it. "You _what_? Ethan, my diary was _private_! You had _no_ right!"

"Perhaps not," he conceded, "but I'm glad that I did. It showed me what you really are."

"What? A girl who was love-sick for you?"

Ethan laughed harshly. "Love-sick for me? _Hardly_. Love-sick for my money, perhaps. Love-sick for Noah Bennett, definitely."

He couldn't be serious.

He couldn't be!

Yet when Theresa looked into his blue eyes, she knew that he was deadly serious. He believed what he was saying was true.

"_Dios mio_! Ethan, I was _never _after your money! And I most certainly was _never_ in love with Noah Bennett! I might have thought I was in love with him the summer I was fourteen, but that's it!"

Ethan shook his head. "Theresa, I read your very own words. I read how you plotted to split Gwen and me up, how it was all part of your plan to marry me so that you could live in the lap of luxury. I read about Noah Bennett coming home for spring break and how you and he resumed your relationship."

"There was no relationship to resume. Noah is one of my oldest friends, Ethan. Nothing else!"

"Do you sleep with all of your friends?" Ethan spat out.

Theresa gasped. Without thinking, she struck him across the cheek.

Ethan rubbed his stinging cheek, noting the shock and hurt on Resa's face.

Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Do you really think so little of me, Ethan? What? Do you think I whore myself to the highest bidder? My God, why do I even try to be a good person when you and everyone else want to believe the worst?"

"The information about your plan to break up Gwen and me was _in your own words_. The information about your trysts with Noah Bennett was _in your own words_, Theresa."

"You're wrong, Ethan! I never wrote about plotting or planning to break up you and Gwen. Did I use situations to my advantage? Yes. Did I try to create problems for you? Absolutely not! And I would _never_ write about sleeping with Noah Bennett because _it never happened! _I remember being happy to see him that spring because we grew up together, not because we were sleeping together!"

She walked to the sofa and sat down, elbows on her knees, her hands covering her face. Why would he even think that? She'd never even been with a man in that way!

She sighed, remembering words her mother used to say to her often. _"If you keep telling lies, Theresita, soon no one will believe you when you tell the truth."_

Ethan maintained his distance. "I know what I saw, Theresa."

She looked up at him. "Ethan, if I were such a manipulative gold-digger or _a femme fatale_, why didn't I ever try to seduce you? Why not go for the old tried and true method of getting you drunk, sleeping with you, and getting pregnant? Then you would have always been tied to me."

Ethan thought for a minute before answering, "Because you knew that your so-called innocence was one of those qualities I found so refreshing about you."

"So-called innocence," Theresa repeated numbly_. No wonder he reacted so strongly to seeing me with his brother_, she thought. _If he's been thinking this for the last six years… _

_But it wasn't true! _

She felt dizzy when the realization hit her. "Oh God. That was why you did it! You showed up at the park that day and cut me out of your life because you thought I betrayed you! And that's why tonight…. " her voice trailed off.

"Now do you understand why I've had such a difficult time believing in you, Theresa?"

Theresa stood and walked to where he stood. Reaching up, she touched his face.

"Look at me, Ethan."

Ethan knew he should pull away from her. How could she still be denying everything?

"When I was a seventeen year old girl, I was so crazy about you, and I went over-the-top. I lied about not having feelings for you; I lied about Chuck. I was so afraid of you finding out, I let these lies continue. That was wrong of me, Ethan. I know it was.

"I know you have every reason in the world to think I'm lying to you now because I have lied to you in the past, but please look into my eyes and listen to my words. I never wrote those terrible things in my diary because I loved you-not your money. I certainly never slept with Noah because I was in love with you. Besides, I always promised myself that I would wait until I was married.

"Ethan, whatever you read, it wasn't my diary."

"I wish that were true, but there were things in your diary that only you and I knew about. You mentioned the time Gwen's engagement ring was stuck on your finger. You mentioned the time we spent together at the cabin. No one else knows about those things."

"There has to be some explanation!" Theresa cried out. "How…how did you get hold of my diary?"

"You left your laptop at the mansion. Gwen was going to look at wedding plans, but she accidentally hit the diary icon on the desktop."

_Accidentally my foot_, thought Theresa.

Ethan continued, "When she saw her name and mine on the screen, she was curious, so she read it. I came home that day, and she was waiting for me in my room. She knew everything. She knew that we'd been spending a lot of time together, and she knew that I was planning on breaking up with her. She also knew everything else about you."

Now it was all starting to make sense. "Gwen. I guess she couldn't wait to show you, could she?"

"It wasn't like that, Theresa. She was upset. She thought you were her friend." He shook his head. "And I was just as dishonest. I should have told her that I had feelings for you the minute I realized it."

"Ethan, is it possible that she realized you had feelings for me _before_ she came to you with my computer? I left my computer at the mansion, and Gwen had access to it. Everything falls into place! Ethan, I didn't write those things, but I have a pretty good idea of who did."

"No. Gwen would _not_ do something like that. She's one of the most honest people I know."

"Right. And she just happens to be one of the most vindictive people that _I_ know. You know that I don't like to speak ill of anyone, but you have no idea of what she is really like! Ethan, she has repeatedly thrown Chuck's death in my face! Her 'Always the bridesmaid, never the bride' or 'Oh poor me, my fiancé's dead' cracks come to mind. Not only that, but she takes great pleasure in telling me of how you and she are working on having a baby. She does things to purposely try to hurt me."

Ethan couldn't believe what he was hearing. Gwen was saying those things to Theresa? If Gwen would say those things, what else would she do or say?

"She really said those things to you about Chuck?"

"Yes."

Ethan took a deep breath. He knew how much Theresa had loved Chuck, and how much she still did. How anyone could use Chuck against Theresa like that was beyond him.

"I'm sorry she did that, Theresa."

Ethan thought back to the time shortly before he read Theresa's diary. Gwen had just returned from a business trip, and he'd been trying to tell her that he was in love with Theresa when she suddenly remembered that she was supposed to be at her mother's house. Ethan had thought it strange at the time.

Was it possible that Gwen had known the truth about his feelings for Theresa then and was just trying to buy time? The thought unnerved Ethan.

"I know why she does it, Ethan. She's scared, and desperation brings out the worst in all of us. But I wish you would rethink whom you place your trust in, at least until Gwen figures out that I'm not trying to take you away from her. Is this the type of behavior you would want from the mother of your child?

The lies were starting to come out. Certainly, he and Gwen had talked about having a baby, but he'd told her that they weren't ready. He was not about to bring a child into an unstable home. Ethan looked at Theresa reassuringly. "Resa, Gwen and I aren't trying to have a baby. In fact, we haven't even…."

"Haven't even what?"

Ethan shook his head. "We haven't been together in months. How could I be with her when all I can think about is you?" He touched her face, wiping her tears away. "Don't you know that you consume my thoughts, my dreams? And that you have ever since I met you?"

Theresa closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of his skin against hers. Relief washed over her; relief that they were finally starting to sort through the web of deceit that had been woven around them.

Theresa opened her eyes and looked directly into Ethan's. "You've never been far from my thoughts…or from my heart, either. I love you, Ethan! I know I have no right to feel this way, but I do love you."

Ethan felt tears sting his eyes. This woman he loved with everything in his being….with all of his soul….had never been untrue to him! There had never been a relationship with Noah Bennett. There had never been a plan to marry him for his money. Theresa was innocent!

Even after the way he'd treated her, she still loved him.

He didn't deserve her love, but he had it.

Tenderly, he cupped her face and whispered, "I believe in you, Theresa. I believe in you. And with everything that I am, I love you. I never stopped, and I never will stop loving you."

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she listened to his words.

_He believed in her. _

_He loved her._

She threw her arms around his neck, and he held her to him tightly. He didn't ever want to let go. He'd let go before when he shouldn't have, but he was never letting go of Theresa again.

He felt tears slide down his own cheeks.

It was all his fault.

He'd walked away from Theresa, spent six years without her, because he was a damn fool.

He'd broken her heart over and over because he was too proud.

He'd nearly lost her again through his own stupidity.

Six years.

_Six years_!

Six years without his Resa.

Six years without holding her and telling her he loved her.

Six years without his hopes and dreams.

Six years of living a lie.

"I'm so sorry, Resa. I should have believed you, should have listened to you…."

His voice broke, and Theresa clung to him even more tightly.

"Ssshhhh," she whispered as she rubbed his back. "You didn't know. Neither of us knew."

"Six years, Theresa. _Six years_!"

How could Gwen have done this to them? And how could he have let her?

"Ethan," she said pulling away from him and looking into his eyes, "we have tonight and the rest of our lives. Do you know how lucky we are?"

He smiled. "You are amazing."

He drew in a breath and just stared at her. Her eyes looked so luminous, so beautiful. He looked down further at her lips, so full and kissable. He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. When their lips touched, he felt as though an electric pulse shot through his body. It had always been that way for them, for as long as he could remember.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, not wanting the moment to end, and it didn't.

His kisses became more probing, more demanding. He put his arms around her waist, trying to draw her closer. Gently, he teased her lips apart before thrusting his tongue into her mouth.

Each time she kissed Ethan, she was amazed by the feelings their kisses evoked. As a young girl, she'd often imagined what it would be like to feel an all-consuming love. Yet never in her wildest imagination had she thought these feelings inside her were possible.

A sigh of pleasure escaped from her.

Her little noise drove him to distraction. His hands began to move upward as he began to kiss her neck. His hands were resting under the swell of her breasts when his good sense returned to him. He found himself responding to her too much.

Ethan pulled away and looked at his Resa. Her lips were swollen, and her chest rose and fell rapidly. He could see the sheer wonder and adoration in her eyes, and it made him feel as though he was the luckiest man alive.

"Why'd you stop?" she teased with a grin.

"I think you know why," he replied with a smile.

Theresa nodded. Even if Gwen lied to keep them apart, Ethan was still married to her. They had to be careful not to let things go too far between them.

"Maybe we could play a little game," she suggested with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Oh? A game? You and your games! What is this one called?"

"'All the reasons I love you,'" she replied.

"I think I like the sound of that. So what does the winner get?"

"A kiss," she replied.

"Sounds fair. And what does the loser have to do?"

"Give the winner a kiss."

"Sounds positively equitable," Ethan replied with a chuckle.

"I thought you would see things my way," she replied taking her hand in his. "Now, come over to the couch with me, and I'll show you how to play."

Ethan sat on the couch, and Theresa sat next to him, very close. "Give me your hand," she instructed him. He complied and she took his large hand in her small ones. "Think back with me. When you were a child and were learning to count, you probably used your fingers. So that's what we'll do tonight."

With one of her hands, she supported his. With the other, she used her thumb and index finger to begin rubbing the length of his thumb. "Reason number one of why I love you: you are willing to take chances and do new things. I will never forget being serenaded by Elvis, nor will I forget Luigi and his suspicious Italian accent. You are my singing partner, my cookie-making partner, my puddle-jumping partner, and you throw a mean snowball."

"Don't forget that I also happen to be a good sport. I play games with you," he interjected.

"Yes, you do," she laughed. "And you make me laugh."

She lifted his hand and lightly kissed the pad of his thumb.

Ethan felt a chill run through him. The lightness of the moment was lost, and he was beginning to feel something else entirely….

She moved to his index finger and began rubbing it between her thumb and index finger. "Reason number two of why I love you: you aren't conceited and you look beyond appearances. I still remember long ago how you treated me when I first started to work for your mother. Remember how I was wearing that terrible wig and those coke bottle glasses?"

"How could I ever forget?"

"You were so kind to me. You looked beyond appearances and took the time to befriend me. You are a genuine person, Ethan. A good person."

Once again, she lifted his hand to her lips and lightly kissed the pad of his index finger.

He drew in a deep breath. What she was starting to do to him….

She moved to his middle finger and began rubbing it between her thumb and index finger. "Reason number three of why I love you: you are so caring. I can't even begin to express to you how much it meant to me when you took care of me the other night. Getting that phone call…." She shuddered to remember it. "It just really shook me up. You could've walked away. You could've pushed the problem onto someone else, but you didn't. You stayed with me, talked to me, calmed me. You even took out the kitty litter! Now that is true caring."

Again, she lifted his hand to her lips. She lightly kissed the pad of his middle finger.

_Does she have any idea of what she is doing to me?_ he wondered.

She moved to his ring finger, but stopped when she saw the golden band around it. Seeing it brought their situation into perspective. Ethan should've been wearing a wedding ring that _she_ gave to him. Yet he wasn't. He was wearing a ring given to him by Gwen.

She knew she would be opening up a can of worms, but she couldn't help herself. Quietly, she asked, "Why did you do it, Ethan? Why did you marry Gwen if you still loved me?"

He took a deep breath. "I've often wondered the same thing. I shouldn't have done it."

She said nothing and waited for him to continue.

"I wasn't strong enough, Resa. Father and Grandfather were still expecting this marriage to take place. Gwen told me over and over that she loved me, that she would never betray me."

"The way you thought I had," Theresa said.

"I just wasn't strong enough. I was numb. I couldn't think; I couldn't feel. So I went along with everything we'd planned and convinced myself that it was the right thing to do. I convinced myself that I could be happy and that I could make Gwen happy."

"She's not going to let you go, Ethan."

"She doesn't have a choice," he insisted.

Theresa shook her head. "Yes, she does. She will fight this! I know she will. And I think we both know that she doesn't fight fairly."

Ethan touched Theresa's face. "She can't hurt us anymore, Resa. Now that we know the truth, she can't touch us. I think she'll understand that, and move on. Hopefully, she'll even find someone who can make her happy."

"Ethan, I just don't think-"

Theresa stopped mid-sentence when she saw the door of Chad's office swing open. In the doorway stood Chad and Whitney. Theresa couldn't help but notice that her best friend did not look very happy.

"Theresa, are you okay?" Whitney asked as she burst into the office.

"Oh, I'm fine. Actually," she said looking at Ethan, "I am _more_ than fine."

Chad looked at Ethan. "Yeah, from the looks of things, I'd say so." He looked back at Whitney. "See. I told you nothin' bad was gonna happen with the two of them. Gasoline and fire? Ha."

Whitney ignored him. "Are you sure, Theresa? When I realized what Chad had done, I was so worried."

Theresa looked back at Ethan and said, "I'm glad Chad did what he did. If he hadn't, I might have continued to be pig-headed. It's a Lopez-Fitzgerald trait, you know."

"You? Stubborn?" Ethan asked with mock disbelief. "Never!"

Theresa playfully hit his arm. "See what I have to put up with?"

Chad shot Whitney a told-you-so glance. "Damn, I'm good," he said to himself.

* * *

Ethan and Theresa stood on her front doorstep, fingers intertwined.

"This night feels like a dream. A wonderful, magical, amazing dream!" Theresa exclaimed.

"If it's a dream, don't wake me up," Ethan murmured before lightly touching Theresa's lips with his own.

"I love you, Ethan Crane."

"I love you, too, Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald."

Theresa looked back at the door. "11:00 AM is an eternity away! I don't want you to go."

"It'll be here before you know it. I promise. And tomorrow, I'll have news for you."

"We're going to have a lot of people unhappy with us. Your family….and mine."

"We've let other people control us for too long, Theresa. It's time to think only of ourselves, to be selfish."

"I'm just afraid that something is going to happen, Ethan. It's as though we always get so close to having everything we want, and then the rug gets pulled out from under us!"

He traced the contour of her cheek. "Wild horses couldn't keep me away from you! Nothing is going to stop us from being together, Theresa."

"Oh, I wish 11:00 were here already!"

"Me, too," he replied quietly.

She didn't envy what he was going to have to face tonight when he returned home. She could tell that he dreaded it. Even though Gwen had lied to them over and over, he still didn't want to hurt her. It was no light matter to end a marriage.

"I'll be dreaming about you tonight. Happy dreams, wonderful dreams."

Ethan kissed her thoroughly before unlocking the door of her house. Slowly, she walked inside.

"I'll see you tomorrow at the park. I love you, Resa. So much."

She watched from the window as he walked to his car and drove away.

Sighing contentedly, she thought, _We're finally going to get our happily ever after._

* * *

A few minutes later as she was scurrying about the house doing last-minute chores before heading to bed, she heard a car pull up in the driveway and then a light tapping on her front door.

Swinging the door open, she excitedly said, "I knew you wouldn't be able to stay away!"

Yet to her surprise, Ethan was not standing there.

Andrew Winthrop Crane was.

* * *

Ethan walked into the Crane Mansion and was greeted by Julian who was helping himself to a nightcap.

"The prodigal son returns. Did you have a busy night after you left the restaurant, Son?"

"You could say that," Ethan replied before heading up the stairs.

He stopped outside of his bedroom door, trying to gather his thoughts. He'd prepared what he wanted to say to Gwen, but now that he was about to speak with her, it somehow seemed inadequate.

As he reached for the door, it swung open. "Ethan, you're home! I'm so glad you're here!" Gwen said as she threw her arms around his neck.

Ethan walked in the room and closed the door behind him. Extricating himself from her hold, he said firmly, "Gwen, we need to talk."


	55. Chapter 55

**Warning: This chapter contains material not really fit for the kiddies. Most of the chapter is just K+, but the end of it moves more toward the M spectrum. That portion is in italics if you wish to try to avoid it.**

* * *

**Chapter Fifty-Five: Bitter Irony**

As soon as Theresa saw Andrew standing in the doorway, she tried to close the door, but Andrew caught it with his foot

"Please, Theresa! Talk to me," Drew pleaded.

Theresa glared at him. She noticed that he looked disheveled, just as Ethan had. His bottom lip was swollen, and she could see the hint of a bruise along his jawline. It gave her a pretty good idea of what must have happened after she left the restaurant.

She felt like screaming. How dare he show up in the first place, but to _force _his presence on her? She was seething. "I have nothing to say to you, Andrew _Crane_."

Drew cringed when he heard the harshness in her voice as she spoke his last name. He knew that he'd hurt her, lied to her, but he had to do something to make her understand! He couldn't just leave things the way they were. She was too important to him.

After leaving the restaurant, he'd driven around for what seemed like hours. He had to admit that it was satisfying to see his perfect brother cut down to size. Yet some of that satisfaction had been marred once the reality of his situation began to sink in. He'd used someone that he truly cared about and hurt her in the process.

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

He'd spent the better part of his life avoiding emotional entanglements, as they were too messy. He knew that he'd issued his share of broken hearts. Yet now he found himself in love with a woman, and she could no longer stand the sight of him. Oh the bitter irony.

How could he make it up to her? If he told her that he'd used her only as a means to hurt Ethan, that would be the end for certain. What could he do?

"Then will you at least listen to me? Please?"

"Why? So that you can stand there and try to justify what you did? I don't think so."

Drew shook his head. "I would think that you of all people would understand what it's like to get caught up in a lie and then feel powerless as the lie grows and everything starts to spin out of control."

"I've made plenty of mistakes, Drew, but it's not the same. I was never intending to hurt anyone. You, on the other hand, seem to derive great pleasure from it. You were in complete control the whole time. You played me like a violin and I blindly trusted you! What a fool I am!"

Drew reached out and touched her hand. She jerked away, as though his touch burned her. He sighed. "You're no fool, Theresa. I'm just a better liar than you are. I-I honestly wish that in some ways, you hadn't trusted me. Then perhaps you wouldn't be hurt right now."

Theresa shook her head defiantly. "You didn't hurt me, Drew. I would have had to care about you before that could happen. And see? I remain unscathed."

He crossed his arms. Her biting remarks hurt, but he knew she was lying. Theresa did care for him. Otherwise, she would never have let him get as close as she did.

"Are you going to invite me in, or are we going to continue putting on a show for the neighbors?" he asked.

Theresa hesitated. The last thing she needed was Drew Winthrop Crane in her home. At the same time, she couldn't help but want to understand what had motivated him. Why all the secrecy?

She sighed. It _had _hurt to be used by him. It had hurt to be betrayed by him. Not just because it made Ethan think the worst of her but because she had genuinely begun to have feelings for Drew.

Looking at his turquoise colored eyes, she finally said quietly, "Come in."

Drew stepped over the threshold and surveyed his surroundings. They'd spent many evenings at her home, evenings that he had enjoyed immensely. She made him want to be a better man, but he also knew that wanting something and working toward something were two entirely different things.

"Theresa-"

"You have five minutes, Andrew," she interjected as she looked at her watch. "Starting-now."

"Has it really come to this?"

"What did you expect?"

"Theresa, I am sorry that I hurt you."

"Oh? You're sorry? Well, then, that just makes it all better," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I, better than anyone else, know that lies have consequences. I think it's time that you start living with the consequences of yours."

She began walking, and he followed.

"Yes, I lied to you, but I had my reasons."

This caught her attention. She spun around. "I'm all ears."

"I wanted to tell you. Over and over, I did. I was too much of a coward, though. You kept insisting that I was a good person, and I really wanted you to believe that I was.

"When I first met you, I had no idea of who you were, but I knew that you were special. I found myself wanting to be around you, and when you agreed to go out with me, I was thrilled. I'm not used to doing the chasing, but I knew that you were a worthwhile effort."

The lies came so smoothly from his lips. He'd known exactly what he was doing when he first encountered her. The plan had been in his mind long before they actually had any contact.

"Then why not just tell me your name? Why the ruse, Andrew?"

"In this town, the name Crane attracts two types of people, Theresa. Those who want to latch on, hoping for handouts, and those who have a grudge to settle with my family. It's much easier to be Drew Winthrop than it is to be Andrew Crane."

"I asked you, point-blank, if you were Andrew Crane, and you denied it."

He felt like groaning. She had him there. He couldn't even argue that it was a lie of omission. He'd purposely deceived her.

Taking a deep breath, he responded, "I was caught up in the lie, Theresa. I considered telling you early on, but I couldn't. When I realized that you were the woman my brother once had feelings for, I was concerned that you would no longer want anything to do with me if you knew my true identity. So I let the lie continue. I didn't want to lose you, but I didn't know how to tell you…."

"Let's see. There's the tried and true method. You could have just said, 'By the way, my name is Andrew. What's yours?' or you could have even said it with a greeting card! But to invite me to dinner with your family, display me as though I was some kind of trophy, and then proceed to single-handedly make me look like the town tramp…let's see….there are better ways of introducing me to the real you."

"What I did was wrong, but I didn't know what to do. My family-it isn't like other families. Everything was just spinning out of control. I'm sorry, Theresa."

Drew watched in surprise as her features softened. "You really mean that, don't you?"

"With everything in me, I do," he replied emphatically.

"And everything was just spinning out of control?" she asked taking a step closer toward him, her voice calming.

"Yes," he replied.

As she approached him, he felt a chill run up and down his spine. Her very presence was enough to drive him mad.

She reached up and touched his shoulders. "And you never meant to hurt anyone?"

"Of course not," Drew retorted. He almost choked on the words, though. True that he'd never meant to hurt Theresa, but Ethan….good ole Golden Boy was a different matter altogether.

"Is there a future for us, Drew?"

Drew felt relief wash over him. "You would want a future with me?"

Theresa pushed away from him. "Of course not, but I've discovered something interesting. I still have the ability to lie right to a person's face. I would have thought you to be seasoned enough that you wouldn't fall for it, Andrew. It's not fun to be on the receiving end of lies, is it?"

He turned away from her. He didn't want her to see the hurt on his face.

"I was just playing along. Thought it might make you feel better," he replied.

"Right. You fell for it, just as I fell for your lies. The least you could do, though, is tell me the truth. You've already lied to me more times than you can count. But you still keep it up, don't you? You still keep telling lies."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about this victim scenario you painted. Things were _not_ spinning out of control because you were the one pulling the strings, Andrew. You knew exactly what you were doing when you met me. You knew just what to say to intrigue me, just what to say to make me feel sorry for you, just what to say to make me trust you, and if you'd had more time, you probably would have known just what to say in order to lure me to your bed. It was a plan! All of it!"

"Why would you say something like that?"

"Because it was all for Ethan's benefit. It's all starting to make sense. You spoke of your brother with such disdain, such blatant jealousy. You wanted me because Ethan cared for me. You wanted to use me against him, to hurt him, and at first, it worked. You hurt both of us, Andrew, all as part of your little sick game!"

"Ethan has figured it out."

Theresa smiled. "I know because he found me tonight."

Drew stiffened. He knew he shouldn't be surprised that Ethan went after Theresa, but it still bothered him. "He doesn't trust you, Theresa. He never will. There's always going to be that shadow of doubt with him where you're concerned."

She shook her head. "Not anymore."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that you managed to do the exact opposite of what you wanted. Rather than driving Ethan and me apart, you brought us together."

"What?" He never believed that Theresa would forgive Ethan so readily.

"Yes, it's true. I love Ethan, and he loves me. Nothing will ever come between us again. So, it looks like you gave it your best shot. Too bad it wasn't good enough."

"A little piece of advice for you about my brother, Theresa. He has good intentions. God knows he's just dripping with them!" Drew said wryly. "Yet it seems to me as though he has a difficult time with the follow-through. You should know that better than anyone else. Let's see…what did he tell you? I can only imagine. He probably told you that he was going home to break things off with Gwen. Oh, and that the two of you are going to have the best life ever. Nothing can stand in your way. Etc. Etc. Etc."

Theresa glared at him, waiting for the punchline.

"One thing, though. Don't you think he said those exact same things to Gwen? 'Oh, Gwen. I'm over Theresa. She never meant anything to me. She was just a distraction. You and I are going to make a life for ourselves. No one will ever come between us again.'"

"Go to hell, Andrew."

"I've already been there. It's called living my life."

"What reason do you have to think that your life is hellish? From where I'm standing, you've had every opportunity laid at your feet. And what have you done? You've wasted it because you're too afraid to try! You _want _to fail because you're afraid to succeed!"

"For a woman who is convinced that everything I did and said was part of a ruse, you certainly seem to think you know me and what I'm feeling."

"It doesn't take a genius to figure out that you are a spoiled brat, Andrew. You play with people's lives the way a child would play with toys."

Drew shook his head. He was getting nowhere tonight. Her wounds were still too fresh. Better to retreat until later. But it never hurt to plant some more ideas….. "Go ahead and think what you want, but I promise you this, Theresa. The time will come when you're going to realize that my brother is not this paragon of virtue that you seem to think him to be. He's just like the rest of us."

"I trust Ethan and love him with everything that I am. He would never purposely hurt me, unlike some people."

"If loving Ethan means that you need to hate me, by all means, take your best shot. I'm used to it." He walked to the door.

Theresa sighed. "I don't hate you, Andrew. I just don't like you very much right now."

He turned around and winked at her. "That's progress."

* * *

Gwen had an uneasy feeling as she felt Ethan's cold stare upon her.

Something had happened.

Something had _definitely_ happened.

She was tired of being on pins and needles. Crossing her arms, she said, "You're even more standoffish than usual."

Ethan looked back at his wife. His _wife_. He almost choked at the thought. It never should have happened. It wouldn't have happened if he just would have trusted his instincts with Theresa. It wouldn't have happened if Gwen hadn't manipulated the situation. If, if, if…. He was going to go mad with _if_s.

"Am I?" he asked, his voice filled with controlled anger.

Gwen shuddered. The look he was giving her was frightening. She'd never seen it before. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Surely you must have some idea," Ethan replied.

Gwen sat on the edge of the bed, trying to regain her equilibrium. Several possibilities ran through her mind. Could he know about Tom? Or about Andrew? Surely not. Tom didn't even know her real name, and Andrew….well, Gwen was fairly certain her brother-in-law wouldn't be spilling the beans anytime soon.

"I don't like this game, Ethan. Just tell me."

"Six years ago, you sat on that same bed, crying…."

"And I've cried plenty of times since then," she interjected.

He shook his head in disgust. "You came to me and told me that you had discovered the 'truth' about Theresa. Remind me, Gwen, of what you told me then. Remind me of what you found out."

Gwen's mind darted into a thousand different directions. Did he know? No. How could he? She and her mother had been so _careful_! There was nothing to tie them to the alterations in Theresa's diary.

Trying to maintain her calm, Gwen replied, "You _know_ what I found out. Theresa played us both for fools. She made me think she was my friend while all the time she was after your money."

"Right. Theresa is such a gold-digger, isn't she?" Ethan stated.

Gwen's head was spinning. Where was he going with this? He couldn't know. He simply couldn't!

"You know she is! After I found her diary and read her words, I was shocked Ethan. Just as shocked as you were. But it was right there, undeniable proof."

Ethan sat next to Gwen on the bed. Leaning close to her, he whispered in her ear, "Yes. Undeniable proof. Proof that _you_ planted."

Gwen practically leapt to her feet. "Ethan, I would _never_-"

"Save it, Gwen!" he roared.

"No, Ethan! I would never lie to you! Never!"

"Then tell me something, Gwen. Have you been telling Theresa that you and I are trying for a baby?"

"Of course not! I know how you feel about that right now-"

Ethan shook his head. "And you _never_ would lie to me, would you Gwen?" he asked sarcastically.

Gwen felt the blood drain from her face. _He knew_. Dear God, he knew about the diary entries and he knew what she'd been telling Theresa.

Seeing the look on his wife's face, Ethan continued, "Are you finally ready to talk about this Gwen?"

She turned away from him and crossed her arms. "I can't believe this."

"Can't believe what? Can't believe that I found out or can't believe how gullible I've been for so many years? Which is it?"

Gwen spun around to face him once more. "Stop it, Ethan. Just stop it!" she cried out as tears came to her eyes.

"I most certainly will not stop it! Gwen, I gave myself in marriage to you, but it's all been one big lie!"

Gwen gulped. "Gave yourself? _Gave yourself_? Is that what you call it?" she asked angrily. "Ethan, you never _gave_ of yourself in this marriage because you have always been too consumed by Theresa! If anyone has been a liar in this marriage, it has been _you_!"

Ethan sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, it was true that he'd never completely put his heart into his marriage. How could he when he'd already given his heart to someone else?

"Do you have any idea of how it feels to know that the person you love is in love with someone else? I've heard you call out her name in your sleep over and over, Ethan. I've seen you run off to rescue Fair Theresa, the damsel in distress. Can you even begin to comprehend how much it _hurts_?"

"Gwen, I'm sorry that I hurt you. We've both made mistakes, but I have to know why you did it. Why would you tamper with Theresa's diary? Why would you want to be with someone who loves someone else?"

She laughed bitterly. "Ah, yes. The million dollar question. Why did I put myself through the torment then, and why do I continue to do it now? That's easy, Ethan. I love you, and it's strange what love will make a person do. You can ask your precious Resa about that.

"When Theresa came into our lives, you and I had shared ten years. Ten wonderful, amazing years. You were the first man I ever kissed, the first man I ever made love to, and I gave you my heart. I gave you my heart for safekeeping, Ethan. I trusted you."

"I never meant-"

She cut him off. "You know, I've seen couples go through what we went through. Once the novelty wears off, the man starts looking elsewhere. I never wanted to believe you were like that, but when Theresa came along…." Her voice trailed off. "I-I just thought it was a physical attraction. I never dreamed that you actually _loved_ her."

"Gwen, it was never about physicality with Theresa and me. How could you not know that I loved her?"

"It was just so sudden, Ethan. I managed to convince myself that once Theresa was out of the picture, your so-called love for her would disappear just as quickly as it came."

Ethan rubbed his forehead. "It wasn't your decision to make, Gwen!"

"Ten years, Ethan! _Ten years_! What was I supposed to do?"

"You sure as hell weren't supposed to manipulate me! What did you think you would gain? Would I love you more? Would I trust you more?" Ethan turned away from her. "I don't even know you anymore."

"I am the same person I've always been!" she exclaimed as she approached him and touched his arm.

He moved from her grasp. "No, Gwen, you aren't. I still remember that young, sweet girl I met at the school social. You were kind and generous, not vindictive. What you did to Theresa and me was _vindictive_. It makes me sick just thinking about it."

"You're leaving me, aren't you?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

"Yes."

"For Theresa."

"No, Gwen. For myself," he responded. "I'm doing this for myself."

"But you _are _planning a future with Theresa, aren't you?"

"Yes."

Tears spilled down Gwen's cheeks. "This is so unfair! God, I sound like a child, but it's true, Ethan. It's unfair! She lied and manipulated her way into our lives! What? Are you going to trade in one 'manipulator' for another? She took the job with Ivy just to get close to you! Whenever we would start to figure out her schemes, she'd always pull a rabbit out of her hat! And here you are, still falling for it! If we hadn't let her get a foothold, we would be happy! We _would_ be!"

"Theresa isn't perfect. I know that, Gwen. But I also know that she has my heart. I chose to ignore what my heart was telling me six years ago. I'm not going to do it again."

Gwen paced frantically. "Just like that? Just like that you're going to leave? We have been together for over fifteen years! Doesn't that mean anything to you? Anything at all?"

"The Gwen Hotchkiss I loved is gone, and in her place is a stranger."

Gwen reached for a vase and hurled it at Ethan. In the midst of her emotional turmoil, her aim was sorely lacking. She crumpled to her knees and began to sob. "What have I become? Oh God! What have I become?"

Ethan hesitated as he watched her. The raw emotion, the pain was all too real. Despite what she'd done, he hated to see her in such pain.

He went to her side and pulled her up into an embrace.

"I've become my mother, Ethan. I've become what I said I would never be!"

"You need a fresh start, Gwen. You deserve to have someone who can give you what you need. I'm not that person."

She clung to him. Why couldn't he see that _he_ was the person she needed? Why couldn't he see that everything she'd done was for love? She loved him more than anyone else _ever _could. She'd continued to love him despite everything!

This couldn't be the end. It simply couldn't be.

_No._

_It wouldn't be the end._

Trying to compose herself, she said, "Ethan, I'm going downstairs to get us drinks."

"Gwen, I really don't think-"

"This will be the last time for us, Ethan; the last time we ever share a drink together. Please just do this for me. I used to enjoy having a glass of wine with you at the end of a long day so much. This has-" she sighed. "This has been a very long day."

* * *

_It's been such a long day_, Theresa thought as she sat on her bed with a small cardboard box. _So long, but so amazing._

Her life had taken a turn that she'd never expected.

She lifted the lid and began to remove its contents. The contents of the box mostly consisted of photos and trinkets that Theresa had stored long ago. These were the things that reminded her of Ethan. At the time, they'd been too painful to look at, but she hadn't been able to bring herself to throw them away. Now she was glad she hadn't.

She pulled the post-it notes with the flowers he drew from the box. They were so simple, but they symbolized their love. They were special to her, just like he was.

The phone rang, stirring Theresa from her thoughts.

"Hello?"

_"Theresa, it's Ethan."_

Her heart involuntarily sped up. Just hearing his voice was enough to give her chills. "Is-is everything okay?" she asked.

_"As good as can be expected. We were right, Theresa. Gwen-"_ he paused. _"Gwen did change the entries in your diary. I still can't believe it."_

Theresa felt tears well up in her eyes. They'd lost so much time….

_No, that's about to change,_ she reminded herself. _We have the rest of our lives_.

_"I told her tonight that it was over,"_ he said_. "I-"_ his voice broke off. _"It wasn't easy."_

"I'm sorry, Ethan. I know that it must have been so difficult for you."

_"It had to be done,"_ he replied. _"She and I couldn't continue as we were. I just hope that she'll be able to find what she's looking for."_

Theresa's heart melted when she heard his words. Despite all the misery that Gwen had put him through, he still wished her well. "Ethan, I love you so much….for your goodness, for your kindness!" she said emphatically.

_"I love you, too, Resa."_ He smiled. _"It feels so good to be able to tell you that. I love you, I love you, I love you."_

"And if feels so good to hear you say that," she said as she settled back onto her pillow.

_"I'm going to be saying it over and over for the rest of our lives."_

"Everything's going to be wonderful for us, isn't it Ethan?" she said dreamily.

_"It's going to be perfect. I can't wait to see you tomorrow."_

Theresa glanced at the clock. It was nearing midnight. "Eleven o'clock seems so far away," she sighed.

_"Just try to get some sleep. Eleven will be here before you know it."_

"You're right. I love you, Ethan. I'll be dreaming about you."

_"I'll be dreaming about you, too, Theresa. Goodnight."_

"Sweet dreams."

With that, Theresa replaced the phone on its receiver.

Swinging her legs over the side of her bed, she stood and walked out of her room and down the stairs. Standing in the living room, she listened to the sound of the waves washing up on the shore.

She felt Serendipity around her feet and reached down to pick him up.

"Everything's different, my sweetie," she said as the cat nestled against her neck. "It's so hard to believe that Gwen took six years from us. But it wasn't a waste, was it? If she hadn't, I never would have known what it was to love Chuck."

A dull ache filled her heart as she thought of him. It was growing easier to think of him without being consumed by regrets, but she would always miss him.

Theresa lifted her left hand and looked at the diamond ring still on her finger. It had once held the promise of a beautiful future. Now it represented a future that would never be.

_A new future was on the horizon._

Tears stung her eyes once more. The ring had become a part of her, but it was time to let it go. Slowly, she tugged at it and slid it off her finger.

* * *

_"Just try to get some sleep. Eleven will be here before you know it."_

Gwen froze outside the bedroom door when she heard Ethan's words.

_"I'll be dreaming about you, too, Theresa. Goodnight."_

She shook her head. There was no way that she was going to let a manipulator like Theresa win! Why should she be rewarded for lies heaped upon lies? It just wasn't right.

Quietly, Gwen turned around and walked back downstairs to the living room to retrieve her purse.

_Good. Just where I left it_, she thought. Setting the glasses of wine on the coffeetable, Gwen opened her purse and pulled out a small vial. Opening its lid, she looked around her before emptying its contents into one of the glasses. She returned the vial to her purse before picking up the glasses and returning upstairs.

When she opened the door of the bedroom, Ethan was sitting on the edge of the bed. She passed him a glass.

He looked at it, still uncertain as to whether they should even be sharing that drink.

"I would like to propose a toast, Ethan."

Gwen's words stunned him. It hardly seemed like an ideal time. Seeing the surprise on his features, she said, "Humor me."

"Very well."

She sat next to him. "To setting things right."

She lightly clicked glasses with him before sipping the contents of her glass. She noticed his hesitation. "Aren't you going to drink up?"

"Um, sure," he replied as he downed the contents of the glass in one gulp.

She took the glass from his hand and set it on the nightstand.

"Do you have a lawyer yet, Ethan?" she asked, trying to sound as casual as she could.

"I'm going-" _Was the room spinning or was it just him?_ "I'm going to see..um, to see a lawyer tomorrow."

Sensing Ethan's disorientation, Gwen asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Like I…like I need to lie down."

Lightly, she touched his shoulder. "Just lean back, Ethan. I'll make it all better."

_Everything was blurry, but Ethan could see her in the distance._

_"Catch me if you can!" Theresa teased him. _

_Ethan tried to look around him, but it was difficult to tell where they were. Wait. They were outside. In the woods? Yes, in the woods. What were they doing there?_

_"Come on, Ethan!" she prompted._

_He caught up with her, and touched her smooth skin. She looked beautiful! She wore a cream colored dress, her hair was lose about her shoulders, and she had a blanket pulled around her._

_"Oh, Ethan, when you touch me like that…" Wrapping her arms around his waist, she kissed him tenderly on the lips._

_Yet when Theresa spoke, she didn't sound as he remembered. Why was that? _

_He pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. He lifted her off her feet, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He kissed her long and hard on the lips, then began tracing the column of her throat with his lips and lower. She ran her fingers through his hair, and felt breathless._

_"Ethan, I want to love you with all of me. Please. Make love to me."_

_"I thought you wanted to wait until we were married." _

_"Married? We _are _married."_

_It didn't make any sense, but he didn't care anymore. He needed no further encouragement. He loved Theresa more than anything in the world, and they'd waited so long to be together. _

_Too long._

_He reached under the blanket and unzipped the back of her dress. He pulled it down and finally off, revealing her soft, round breasts and lacy, white panties. _

_"You are so beautiful," he said as he kissed her neck, all the while stroking her breasts. _

_He was driving her crazy, teasing her. He moved down, taking one breast into his mouth, sucking on her and then circling her breast with his tongue. _

_She moaned with pleasure and began to pull at his jacket. He took it off, even as she began to pull off his tie and unbutton his shirt. She finally slid her hands over the warm flesh of his chest. _

_She pulled away from him, and he thought he would go mad. Gently, she pushed on his shoulders, wanting him to go to the ground. He did as she wished._

_Smiling, she straddled his lap. As she shifted her position, he groaned. She pulled tightly to him and began moving against him, her breasts teasing him as they rubbed against his chest. She kissed him hard, biting his lip in the process._

_He couldn't stand it anymore. He pulled the blanket from her shoulders and threw it to the ground. He scooped her in his arms and laid her on it, settling beside her._

_She reached for the buttons of his pants, tugging at them, trying to get them off. They came, and his briefs followed._

_"It's always so good with us, Ethan. Always. No one can do for you what I can." _

_She took her hand and placed it on his manhood. Gently, she stroked it as he shuddered. _

_His kisses covered her body until she was breathless, hungry for more. She threw a leg over his thigh, and he had to force himself to not thrust into her that moment. He needed to make sure she was ready and certain. _

_His hands slipped down to her waist and lower. He felt the silky curls that hid the opening to their pleasure. His fingers slid between her folds. She was ready for him and tight. _

_"Are you sure?"_

_"Positive. God, Ethan, it's been so long for us. So long…"_

_His lips came down on hers as she spread her legs. _

_He put his hands under her buttocks, pulling her closer, and entered her. Their eyes locked as he thrust deeper, planting himself deep inside of her. Slowly, he began to withdraw from her before thrusting deeply again. _

_She cried out his name, scratching his back. _

_She moved against him, impatient. He thrust again, and she arched her back to allow him deeper access. Their movements became rhythmic. Over and over, they moved together._

_He could feel her start to shudder as she found her release. _

"Theresa!" he called out as he thrust again, spilling his seed deep inside her.

Gwen held Ethan tightly against her. Her body was reeling from the sensations of feeling Ethan inside of her again. Only Ethan could make her feel that way.

It hurt that he called out Theresa's name, but she knew that in the end it would all be worth it. It would be a matter of setting things right.

"That's it, darling. Give me a baby. Give me a baby."

* * *

to be continued...


	56. Chapter 56

**Chapter Fifty-Six: "One for the Road"**

The sun was streaming through the skylight. Theresa stretched lazily in bed, looking up at the bright blue sky. It was going to be a wonderful day. Of that, she had no doubt.

She glanced at her alarm clock. _6:58_. The alarm would begin blaring in two minutes. She reached over to her nightstand and flipped the switch.

_How am I ever going to wait until 11:00 to see Ethan?_ she wondered. She was determined to keep busy until then. Swinging her legs over the side of her bed, she stood and walked into the bathroom. She ran water over her face and pulled her hair back before brushing her teeth. Walking back into her bedroom, she stripped the nightgown she wore and found some running shorts, a sports bra, and a sweat shirt.

_It's got to be business as usual_, she told herself.

She sighed. It was so hard! She was practically bursting with excitement. Yesterday's events had been so amazing! All the years of doubt were melting away_. Ethan loved her._ He'd never stopped! And now…._now _they were finally going to start a life together.

Pulling on socks and shoes, Theresa was all but ready for her morning jog, except that she still needed to feed Serendipity. Her cat greeted her in the hallway and looked up at her expectantly.

"I'm coming. I'm coming," she said.

She walked through the living room and into the kitchen pantry to pull out cat food. Passing back through the living room again, a photograph caught Theresa's eye. It was a wedding photo of Luis and Sheridan.

"Will you understand, Luis?" she wondered aloud.

It was no secret that Luis and Ethan barely tolerated one another. That small fact was not likely to change.

She picked up the photo. "I just wish that you and Ethan could see what Sheridan and I see. You're both such wonderful men. Pig-headed, but wonderful."

Replacing the photo, she went out the French doors to the deck, making her way to the beach.

* * *

Andrew Crane walked into the living room of his family's mansion. His father sat on the sofa reading the morning newspaper, drinking his morning coffee, flavored with just a hint of brandy.

Julian glanced up from his paper when he heard his son's footsteps. "You look a little worse for wear," Julian commented as he noticed the purple bruise along Drew's jaw line.

"I'm sure Ethan is sporting a few reminders of his own," Drew replied as he walked to the serving cart and poured himself a glass of orange juice.

Julian chuckled. "Quite honestly, I didn't think that Ethan had it in him. He's always been so…._upstanding _and _responsible_," Julian said with an exaggerated rolling of his eyes. "No doubt it's his mother's influence."

"I liked seeing Ethan get worked up," Drew replied. "I can't say that my jaw appreciates it very much, but it was worth it."

Julian raised an eyebrow. "Seeing you with Theresa last night brought some questions to mind, Son."

"Such as?"

"What you were thinking by bringing the Lopez-Fitzgerald girl to our _family _dinner."

Drew nonchalantly yawned. "You know I have a taste for the exotic."

"Yes, but there are better ways to sate that taste. It's bad enough that Sheridan didn't have the good sense to stay away from Pilar's brood, but you…I thought I'd raised you better than that. Theresa is a beautiful creature, no doubt quite a treat in the sack. Still, aren't there less complicated conquests out there?"

"I like complications, Father. I always have."

"Meaning that you want what someone else has. Namely, Ethan."

Drew ignored Julian's observation. "Where is Ethan, by the way? I was hoping to see him this morning."

"He and Gwen haven't come down yet."

Drew couldn't hide his surprise. After speaking with Theresa the night before, he'd been so certain that the marriage between Ethan and Gwen would be kaput by now.

"You mean Gwen is still here?"

Julian frowned. "Why wouldn't she be?"

"After last night, I assumed…"

Julian shook his head. "She's a Crane wife. She knows that comes with certain obligations to look the other way at indiscretions."

Drew swallowed hard. He still couldn't believe that Ethan had stayed. He obviously had Theresa dangling on a rather tight string, certain that her future with his brother was secured.

He raised an eyebrow. "Maybe my brother isn't so saintly after all."

* * *

Theresa glanced at her wristwatch. _11:05_.

"Where could he be?" she spoke aloud. Standing from her seat on the park bench, she began to pace. Worry filled her. "I'm being ridiculous. I mean, it's only five minutes. He'll be here. I know he will."

She watched as a young couple walked past her. Between them, each held the hand of their toddler, still wobbly in his steps. They seemed so perfect.

_That could be us someday_, Theresa thought, happiness swelling in her heart.

How she wanted children! Perhaps not right away, but soon. To be able to love a little one, teach a child, share in new experiences…it all seemed like such a blessing from God.

She watched until the family was out of sight and began pacing again.

A few minutes later she looked at her watch again. _11:18_.

"Where are you, Ethan?"

It was so unlike him to be late and not call. Ethan was always so responsible about things like that.

"I'll just give him a few minutes, and then I'll call."

"Who are you going to call?" a familiar voice asked her.

Theresa spun around. "Luis!" she said in alarm. "What are you doing here?"

Her brother looked down at his uniform. "Just a routine foot patrol. Why are you so jumpy? Aren't you glad to see me?"

Theresa hugged her brother. "I'm always glad to see you. I just-I just wasn't expecting it."

"But apparently you were expecting someone," Luis noted. "You never answered my question, Theresa."

Theresa took a deep breath. Should she tell him? There was no use in keeping it a secret from him. She'd learned the hard way what secrets could do to a person.

"I'm meeting Ethan," Theresa stated simply.

"What? Theresa, you _can't_ be serious!"

A flurry of emotions surged through him. He remembered all-too-well how Ethan had broken his little sister's heart by turning against her. Luis didn't trust him; not one bit. In his mind, Ethan was just as corrupt as the rest of his family.

"Things have changed, Luis," Theresa replied. "We know things now-"

Luis interrupted her. "Things have changed? Theresa, he is a married man! That certainly hasn't changed!"

"It's about to," Theresa informed him.

Luis shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I simply cannot allow this, Theresa."

"You can't _allow_ it? Luis, that might have worked on me when I was seventeen years old, but I am a grown woman. I make my own choices. I choose whom I wish to see, and I choose whom to love."

"Dammit, Theresa, Ethan Crane is nothing but a user! He has hurt you over and over again. Why would you willingly subject yourself to that?"

"Ethan is a good man, Luis. A _very_ good man. We never would have been apart if it hadn't been for the lies that Gwen told. I know that I've made my share of mistakes, but she tricked him."

Luis shook his head, not wanting to hear his sister's words. "You've turned into the 'other woman.'"

"Luis!"

"I expected more from you," he said sadly.

Theresa reached out for her brother. "It's not what you think! I would never be any man's mistress! Never!"

Luis held out his hands. "I can't talk to you right now." With that, he walked away from her.

Theresa looked up at the sky. "Dear God, please let Luis understand. Please."

She glanced back at her watch before looking back at the sky again. "And let Ethan get here safely."

* * *

Sitting on the bench, Theresa looked at her watch again for the umpteenth time. It was almost 12:00.

She couldn't wait any longer. Pulling her cell phone from her purse, she dialed his cell phone number. It rang. And rang. And rang. And rang.

No answer.

A terrible fear gripped her. What if something had happened to him? What if there had been some kind of accident?

_Dear God, no…_

Stuffing the phone back into her purse, she quickly walked to her car, determined to trace the path Ethan would have followed from the mansion to the park.

Theresa sighed in relief when she saw the Crane Mansion in sight. She'd seen no signs of an accident on the road, but where could Ethan be?

She paused at the security gate, and the guard, recognizing her from the time she spent working for the Cranes, waved her on. As she drove up the long road that cut through the estate, she knew she had to find out. Surely someone inside would know of Ethan's whereabouts. Perhaps it would be a little uncouth to go there, but she had to know that he was alright.

She finally found herself at the front door of the mansion. Taking a deep breath, she rang the doorbell. A moment later, a young woman came to the door.

"May I help you?" she asked. Her eyes were downcast, Theresa noticed.

"I'm Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. I-I'm a friend of Mr. Crane's. May I come in?"

"Laticia, who is at the door?" Ivy asked as she came down the stairs.

"A Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald."

"Theresa!" Ivy exclaimed. "Well, let her in. By all means!"

The young woman stepped aside and allowed Theresa to enter. Ivy approached Theresa, took her hand, and squeezed it.

"I didn't expect to see you, especially after last night," Ivy said as gently as she could.

"Last night was disastrous, but so many things have changed. Is Ethan here by any chance?"

Ivy frowned and hesitated. "I believe he is," she finally replied.

Theresa face broke out into a wide grin. "Oh thank heavens he's safe! I was so worried! We were supposed to meet at 11:00, but when he didn't show, I began to think the worst."

"You and Ethan care for each other, don't you?"

Theresa nodded. "Very much so. If circumstances had been different…" her voice trailed off. "I have to go see him! Is he in his room?"

"Yes, but-"

Theresa didn't listen. She hurried up the familiar stairs, making her way down the hall toward Ethan's room.

"Ethan? Are you in there?" Theresa asked as she stood outside of the door.

No answer.

She waited another moment before hesitantly turning the doorknob. Slowly opening the door, she gasped at what she saw. Ethan and Gwen were in bed….together.

It couldn't be.

_It couldn't be_!

It had been lies. _All of it!_

He didn't love her!

He had no intention of starting a new life with her.

"No!" she cried out softly. Her heart pounded so hard, she could hear it in her ears and feel the blood rushing. Tears began to fill her eyes.

Gwen stirred, propping herself up on her elbows, though careful not to awaken Ethan. The covers were thrashed about, and it was quite obvious to Theresa what had happened between them.

Groggily, Gwen looked at Theresa who was standing in the doorway. Satisfaction filled her as she saw the despair on Theresa's countenance. _What goes around, comes around_, Gwen thought.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you that it's impolite to enter someone's room without knocking?"

Theresa felt nauseated. Horribly nauseated. Everything seemed to be spinning around her. She gripped the door facing, trying to maintain her balance.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" Gwen asked.

Theresa closed the door and started back down the hall. She felt her throat closing up, threatening to form a sob. Her tears blinded her. She could hardly see where she was going. Leaning against the wall, she tried to take a breath, but it just wouldn't come to her.

"Theresa."

_It was Gwen._

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Theresa spun around and saw that Gwen had hastily pulled on a robe.

"You shouldn't be here," Gwen said.

"Believe me. I wish I weren't," Theresa said as she started to walk away from the other woman.

"Wait, Theresa. There are a few things that you should know."

"I think I know enough," Theresa replied bitterly.

Gwen reached out and caught Theresa's arm. "No, I don't think you do." She sighed. "Poor thing. You look so shocked."

"Let. Go. Of. Me," Theresa said through clenched teeth.

Gwen stepped away from her. "Very well. Just so that you know, Ethan told me last night that he wants a divorce. He's leaving me."

"Wh-what?"

"That was what you wanted, wasn't it?"

"Then what the hell was that?" Theresa asked pointing to the bedroom door.

Gwen took a deep breath. "Theresa, Ethan and I have been together for a long time. We've spent years in each others' arms, in each others' bed. I drive him wild in ways that no one else could. He realizes that. We were saying goodbye to each other. I guess you could call it one for the road."

"You disgust me!"

Gwen crossed her arms. "Don't get so sanctimonious with me, you little home-wrecker! How many times have you crawled into bed with a married man? And then when you showed up to our family dinner with Andrew? Tacky, Theresa. Very tacky."

"You would know about tackiness, Gwen."

"Let's see…a lesson in etiquette from the housekeeper's daughter. Does anyone else see the irony in this situation?"

"You are a despicable woman, Gwen Hotchkiss."

"That's Gwen Crane."

"It wouldn't have been if you hadn't lied your way to the altar. When I think about what you did… how could you be so cruel? How could you hurt Ethan like that by destroying his faith in me and his faith in himself? _How could you_?"

Gwen smirked. It was just too easy to goad Ethan's little tart. "Is that supposed to hurt me, Theresa?"

Theresa's jaw clenched when she saw the look of delight on Gwen's face. She was enjoying this entirely too much. "No," Theresa replied. "But this is." She clenched her hand into a fist and swung, making contact with Gwen's right cheek.

The force and the surprise of the blow sent Gwen reeling backward, and she hit the wall.

Gwen rubbed her aching cheek, anger burning in her eyes. She could faintly taste blood in her mouth. "That's the last shot you'll _ever _take, Terrorsita."

"You can't do anything else to hurt me, Gwen."

With that, Theresa headed down the stairs.

Still rubbing her face, Gwen watched her go. "I wouldn't be so sure of that, Theresa."

* * *

Theresa practically ran to her car. Sobs escaped her throat as she rested her head against the steering wheel. She couldn't go anywhere. She couldn't even see straight.

"Why?" she cried out. "WHY?"

Everything she had believed in was gone.

Everything she thought she knew about Ethan had been a lie.

It was all an illusion, all a dream.

"How could I have been so stupid?"

"Theresa?" a voice asked.

Theresa looked up and saw Drew standing next to her car, concern filling his turquoise eyes.

"Go away, Drew. Go _away_."

"I can't. Not when you're like this. You found out, didn't you?"

"I am not going to talk about this with you," she spat out. With the sleeve of her shirt, she hastily wiped her tears away. Willing them to cease, she started her car and sped down the driveway.

Drew watched her and shook his head. "Damn him."

* * *

He was going to be sick.

Wearily, sluggishly, Ethan pulled himself out of bed and barely made it to the bathroom before vomiting. He felt a little better, but his head! He felt as though he'd been hit by a truck.

He rinsed his mouth and returned to the bedroom. Still groggy, he flopped down on the bed, his strength all but gone.

He'd been having the strangest dreams, erotic dreams. He was with Theresa, but at the same time, it wasn't Theresa. It didn't feel right.

Finally, he cast his eyes on the alarm clock. _12:45_.

Ethan practically leaped up.

"Theresa! Oh, God, I was supposed to be at the park almost two hours ago!"

The door swung open, and Ethan saw Gwen walk in wearing her filmy robe. She was rubbing her cheek.

"Don't bother, Ethan. Theresa isn't there," Gwen told him.

"How would you know?" Ethan asked angrily.

"Because she was just here. These loose teeth of mine belong to her! Now I'm going to have to go to the dentist!"

Ethan was worried. "Theresa was here? Why didn't she come get me?"

Gwen looked at Ethan pointedly. "She did, Ethan. And she found us."

"_Us_? What are you talking about? There is no _us_. I love Theresa, and only her. I expected _you_ to be gone."

Gwen approached him and touched his bare chest. "After the night we shared, how could I go, Ethan?"

"What are you talking about?" he asked as he jerked away from her.

Then it hit him. Memories flooded back. They'd argued. He told her that there was no future for them, and she had insisted that they drink one last glass of wine together.

_The wine._

Ethan felt the blood drain from his face.

She had put something in the wine!

And the dreams…they weren't dreams!

Ethan gripped Gwen's arms. "What have you done?"

"It's not what _I've_ done, Ethan. It's what _we've_ done."

Ethan pushed her away, disgusted, and she landed on the bed. "You make me sick! You know, before, I actually felt sorry for you. But not anymore. I loathe you! I _despise_ you!"

"We'll see if you're singing a different tune nine months from now. I'm hopeful that we created a baby last night, Ethan."

Ethan felt revulsion course through him. "A baby? That's impossible! We've talked about this and agreed it wasn't the right time. You're on the Pill."

"I _was_ on the Pill," Gwen corrected him. "Not anymore."

He was going to be sick again.

"How could you, Gwen? What do you think you could possibly gain? Your stunts are not going to make me stay with you."

She had nothing to lose anymore. " I might not have you, but neither will Theresa."

Ethan's heart lurched.

_His Resa_.

She had to be devastated. He needed to find her, to make things right.

"Get out of here, Gwen."

"Ethan-"

"I'm not a violent man, Gwen, but if you stay here, there are no guarantees! You're a monster!"

Gwen sighed. She knew their confrontation wouldn't be pretty, but soon, he would be seeing things in a new light. She touched her abdomen, certain they'd created a child together.

"You'll see, Ethan. I'm not all bad."

"Get out!"

She shrugged and walked out of the room. Ethan sank onto the bed and then quickly jumped up. He didn't want to be anywhere near that piece of furniture. He would never sleep on it again.

_What have I done?_

_Dear God, what have I done?_


	57. Chapter 57

**Chapter Fifty-Seven: "Strong Enough"**

When Drew opened the front door of the mansion and saw Gwen strolling down the stairs with a look of utter satisfaction on her face, he felt revolted. He'd just watched Theresa tear out of the mansion, and he'd never seen anyone so upset. He tried to talk to her, but she would barely even look at him. _At one time, she would have confided in me_, he thought. _Maybe I would even have been able to make things betters for her._

"Can't you just stay away?" Gwen asked when she saw her brother-in-law walk inside.

"Funny. I was thinking the same thing about you, Gwen."

"I got what I wanted, which means you're on the verge of getting what you want. So what is your problem, Andrew?" she asked as she rubbed her cheek, still reeling from the sting of Theresa's punch.

Drew shook his head. "I cannot believe you! Or Ethan, for that matter. How could you do that to her? How could you purposely hurt Theresa that way?"

Gwen was puzzled. "What is this I'm seeing? The Saint Andrew Hour? Since when have you cared about anyone but yourself? It was perfectly acceptable for you to set Theresa and Ethan up for a fall, but when I did it, it was wrong. What's the difference?"

Drew rubbed his forehead, and the realization struck him. _There was no difference. _

He'd spent the better part of his life trying to find ways to put a chink in Ethan's knight-in-shining-armor persona. He'd stepped on people, hurt them in the process, and he'd never looked back. He'd used lies to gain the upper hand on too many occasions to even count. He'd become someone he didn't even like—and for what?

"There is no difference, Gwen, except that looking at you reminds me of all the things I don't like about myself."

"Look harder, Drew, because people like you and me are the ones that come out on top. I spent too long being pushed around in my life, letting other people jerk me around like I was a puppet on a string. No longer. Now I'm the one pulling the strings."

"I'm not like you, Gwen. No anymore. Being with Theresa showed me that there are better ways to live my life. I _can_ be a better person."

Gwen rolled her eyes. "Why is it that men are always so fascinated by Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald? I just don't get it!"

"No, I don't suppose you would," he replied before heading up the stairs.

* * *

Ethan was hastily pulling on a shirt when Drew swung the door to his bedroom open.

"Get out," Ethan growled.

"I'm not your enemy, Ethan. You're doing a fine job of being your own worst enemy," Drew replied.

"I don't want to hear your gloating right now, Andrew. So either get out or I will throw you out."

Drew crossed his arms, ignoring him. "Did you get up on the wrong side of the bed, or did you just get out of the wrong bed? Which is it?"

Ethan grabbed the collar of his brother's shirt and slammed him against the wall.

Drew yawned. "Go ahead and hit me if you think it will make things better, Ethan. I already have a fat lip from last night. Maybe you can give me a black eye. It might make for an interesting story at show and tell."

Ethan released his brother. "I don't have time for this. I have to find Theresa."

"I suspect Theresa doesn't want to see you, Ethan."

Ethan bit his bottom lip. "I _have_ to find her. I love her! I have to tell her—''

"You love her? My, my, don't you have quite the way of showing it. You know, I always suspected behind that choir boy exterior there was a little bit of playboy in you, just like the rest of us. Now I know for sure."

Ethan glared at Andrew. "What? Do you think I did this on purpose? You _know_ I love Theresa! You _know_ I never stopped! Why the hell do you think I would sleep with Gwen if I love Theresa?"

"Why do any of us do what we do, Ethan? We're Crane men. We take what we want."

"I don't want to be with Gwen. I told her that last night." Ethan ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I told her! She acted like she accepted it and insisted that we share one last drink together."

Drew found himself having to stifle a chuckle. "How gullible are you, Ethan?"

"I never thought Gwen capable of something so underhanded!"

"What's the old saying about a woman scorned?"

Ethan grimaced. "I feel disgusting! This morning Gwen admitted everything. She admitted to slipping something in my drink. To top it off, she told me that she stopped taking the Pill some time ago."

"Are you telling me that I might be an uncle in nine months?" Drew asked with a grin. "Uncle Drew…it has a nice ring, don't you think?"

"Don't even joke about this!"

"You can't tell me that it hasn't run through your mind, Ethan. You might be a daddy before long."

Ethan sat in a chair and pulled on his shoes. "I hate her, Andrew. I _hate_ Gwen."

"But she's getting exactly what she wants, Ethan. She managed to drive a wedge between you and Theresa. Gwen might not have you, but Theresa won't have anything to do with you, either. But she also happens to be pretty smart. If she is pregnant, she knows that you would never abandon your child or its mother."

Ethan shook his head. "I can't think about that now. I have to find Theresa," he said pushing past his brother.

"Good luck, Ethan," Drew remarked as he watched his brother leave. "Of course, it won't do you any good. You're going to fall flat on your face."

* * *

Theresa unlocked the door to her boutique. She'd been driving around for what seemed like forever, trying to force herself to stop crying. When she nearly ran off the road, she decided it was time to stay put for awhile.

Letting the door close behind her, she locked it back and closed all the blinds.

"How could I have been so stupid?" she cried out. "To believe in Ethan again….to put my trust in him….to give him my heart? Will I never learn?"

She walked to the back of her boutique into her office. Settling in her chair, she rested her head on her desk.

Over and over Luis had warned her that Ethan was just like the other Cranes. She hadn't wanted to listen.

Over and over Whitney warned her that Ethan and Gwen would always be tied to one another. She hadn't wanted to listen.

"Shame on you, you fooled me once. Shame on me, you fooled me twice," she spat out. Grabbing her phone, she hurriedly dialed a number."I need to see you," she said trying to gain her composure.

* * *

"Is this about the phone call, Theresa?" Emmaline Wilson asked as she took Theresa's hand in her own and led her inside the house. Mrs. Wilson could not help but notice that Theresa's eyes were red and watery. If she had news about the monster impersonating her son…..

"No, Emmaline. We're still trying to find out who left the message. It's been slow going on that front, but we're hopeful we'll know something soon."

The pain was evident in Emmaline's eyes, and she was certain it was about more than the mystery message. Then it dawned on her. There was only one person capable of upsetting her so much.

"What has Ethan Crane done?"

"It's not what Ethan's done. It's what _I've_ done," Theresa replied. Looking around her surroundings, she felt comforted. She'd spent many hours with Chuck's mother at her estate.

"What you've done?"

Theresa shook her head in disgust. "I allowed myself to believe in Ethan again. Do you—do you think I'm stupid?" Theresa asked suddenly.

Emmaline chuckled and placed her arms around Theresa's shoulders. "Why, where in the world is this coming from?"

"I spent so many years of my life looking through rose colored glasses. I—I never wanted to see things as they really were, only as I wanted them to be. You know, I thought that I'd become smarter about things—about men." Tears started to stream down her face.

Emmaline gently wiped Theresa's tears away. "You are bright, Theresa, and there's nothing wrong with looking at the good side of people. When people mistreat you, it's their doing, not yours. The fault lies with them, not you." She smoothed Theresa's hair and led her to the sofa. "I'm glad you came to me; so glad that you felt you could trust me with this."

"A part of me wants to just curl up into a ball and never move again. I am so tired of being alone and so tired of being disappointed!"

"Oh my dear, life is about struggles and how you handle them. Either you get them or they get you."

Theresa looked into the older woman's steely gray eyes. "I allowed myself to believe that Chuck might still be out there somewhere, and I allowed myself to trust Ethan. Both were foolish mistakes. I just don't think I have any strength left."

"You do, Theresa. _You do_. You have perseverance, spunk."

"Not this time."

"Theresa," Emmaline prompted gently, "what has happened with Ethan?"

Theresa took a deep breath. "He was so wonderful to me, Emmaline. When I thought Chuck was still out there, he took care of me. We came to realize that we still had feelings for each other. I even found out why he turned on me those years ago."

"Why did he?" Emmaline asked. She'd as much as asked Ethan the same question when he'd been there to see her, though he'd never given her a straight answer.

"Because Gwen changed the entries to my diary on the computer. He thought that I had betrayed him, that I used him. Yet those feelings we had for each other never completely went away."

"Then what has happened to bring you to this state?"

"Ethan went home to confront Gwen about the diary and tell her that he wanted a divorce. He was supposed to meet me at 11:00 this morning. He never showed up."

"Surely he had a good reason," Emmaline hedged. She might not like Ethan Crane, but she knew that his love for Theresa ran deep.

"He had his reasons," Theresa replied bitterly. She closed her eyes, and she could still picture him asleep in bed with Gwen. The image would be forever burned into her mind. "I became worried, so I decided I would try to trace the path he would've taken to the park, just in case he'd been in an accident. I got all the way to the Crane Mansion, and there was no sign of him. I decided to go inside and see if he was there by any chance."

"And was he?"

Theresa nodded. "He was in bed with Gwen."

Emmaline's jaw clenched. "I told him to be gentle with your heart," she murmured. "I hope you let him have it, Theresa."

"I couldn't deal with him then. I turned around and left, but Gwen had seen me. She followed me out."

"I never did like Rebecca Hotchkiss," Emmaline said. "I see Gwen is definitely her mother's daughter."

Theresa wiped a stray tear away. "You could say that. She gloated, Emmaline. That bitch stood there and gloated. She talked about how she and Ethan were getting divorced, but how Ethan needed 'one for the road.' It was terrible!"

"What did you do?" Emmaline asked.

"I—I punched her."

Emmaline clasped her hands together. "I didn't think you had it in you! You've been much too lady-like where she's concerned."

"I didn't feel like much of a lady when I did that. What I don't understand is how Ethan could do this to me. He told me over and over that he loved me. He'd even told me that he hadn't slept with Gwen for months because he couldn't stop thinking of me. And then there he was—in bed with _her_."

Emmaline thought of Rebecca Hotchkiss and how she'd managed to snare her husband, Jonathan. Deceit was not a foreign concept in that family. And then with the way Ethan had been so determined to help Theresa, it didn't make sense that he would fall into bed with his wife. No, something else was at work here.

"Theresa, is it possible that Gwen tricked him into bed?"

"How? After what Gwen did to us, how could Ethan trust her enough to even let her get close enough to trick him?"

"A spider web looks very beautiful to a fly, but what a trap it makes," Emmaline mused. Her eyes grew wide. "Maybe we're looking at this the wrong way, Theresa. What if—what if nothing happened between them, but Gwen made it seem as though something had?"

Theresa felt hope rising within her. Was it possible that Ethan had never been untrue to her? That had to be it!

No matter what, Ethan would never betray her that way!

Theresa broke out into a wide smile. "That has to be it! Oh goodness, Ethan has to be worried sick about me! I've got to get back to Harmony!"

"That's the spirit, Theresa. Go back and fight for what you want," Emmaline coached.

"I can't believe I almost fell for this! Now that we've figured out what Gwen was up to, she's not going to win."

* * *

Ethan sat on Theresa's doorstep. He'd searched all over Harmony for her. He'd even gone to Luis and Sheridan's home and faced her rather unhappy brother.

"Resa, please come home," he whispered as he looked at the sky.

It was starting to get dark, and he was starting to become even more worried.

"Ethan," he heard a voice say.

_It was her._

He stood hesitantly. He was so fearful that Theresa would turn and walk away, but she didn't. His heart ached at the sight of her. She looked as though she'd been crying, and he would have given anything to make those tears go away.

"I was so worried about you, Theresa," he said.

She rushed to him and put her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest. "I'm sorry, Ethan. I'm so sorry."

He wrapped his arms around her, afraid she would slip away from him. "You—you aren't upset with me?"

Theresa looked up at his blue eyes and stood on her toes, brushing her lips lightly against his. "How could I be?" she murmured. "I'm more upset at myself than anything. Ethan, I almost let Gwen ruin what we have."

"She told me you came this morning when I was passed out. Theresa, I have never hated anyone before now. She makes me sick! I just wish you hadn't seen what you saw."

"But Ethan, it was all a trick! I know that now! Gwen was trying to make me believe that you'd slept with her, but I _know_ you would never do that. She can't hurt us anymore!"

Ethan looked down into Theresa's brown eyes. They were filled with such trust and such hope, Ethan thought he might drown in them.

How could he tell her that he didn't deserve that trust and hope?

_He couldn't._

And so he held her, saying nothing.


	58. Chapter 58

**********Disclaimer: **All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

**Chapter Fifty-Eight: "Pedestals"**

Theresa opened the door and led Ethan inside her house.

As soon as they were inside, Theresa closed the door and wrapped her arms around Ethan once again.

Ethan rested his chin on the top of her head. His heart was pounding. He'd come so close to losing her. For all he knew, he still might. "I was worried about you, Theresa. Andrew said he saw you, and that you were very upset. I looked for you everywhere."

Theresa groaned. "I feel so silly, Ethan. I know better than to let Gwen get to me, but I fell right into her trap."

Ethan swallowed hard. Theresa wasn't the only one who fell into Gwen's trap. Quietly, he said, "I'm sorry, Theresa."

And he was. He was sorry that Theresa had been hurt, sorry that he'd been such a fool, sorry that he'd betrayed her, and sorry that he didn't have the courage to tell her the truth.

She pulled back from his and lightly touched his face. "It's not your fault. I would much rather look to the future than to the past. I decided that I needed to come back and fight for what I want, and that's what I'm doing. I won't let Gwen's lies ruin us, Ethan. We let her do that for too long."

"Theresa, there are things I need to tell you," he said.

Something in his tone frightened her. "Of—of course. Come sit with me," she said taking his hand and leading him to the sofa. As they sat, Theresa said, "I'm sorry. I've been _so_ selfish, Ethan. Of course you need to talk about what happened with Gwen! It isn't everyday that a person ends a marriage. And here I've been going on and on."

"Ssshhhh," he said, holding his fingers to her lips. "You're not selfish. You're wonderful, Resa. So much more than I deserve."

Theresa smiled. "I love you, Ethan Crane. So very, very much."

Leaning forward, she kissed him fiercely. She was surprised by her own boldness. It felt both new and familiar at the same time as they relearned the taste and feel of each other.

Ethan knew he was in danger of losing himself in their kiss, and more than anything else, he needed to keep a cool head. He had to tell her the truth while he still had the strength to do it.

"Theresa," he said, his breath shallow, "I need to tell you…."

She clasped his hands. "I'm sorry. You keep trying to talk, and I keep interrupting."

He looked down at the tiny hands he held in his own, afraid to look into her eyes. That was when he noticed something was different; something was missing.

"Your ring, Theresa. It's…gone."

"I took it off last night. It was time to let go," she replied quietly. "It's time to make a new start, Ethan."

"You're right, Theresa. A new start…"

"What were you saying, Ethan?"

Ethan shook his head. He couldn't do it. "It doesn't matter right now."

"Are you sure, Ethan? You seemed so determined…."

"I just want to savor this moment," he replied, pulling her closer. He swallowed hard. He still couldn't believe that she'd actually taken the ring off.

Theresa seemed to notice his surprise. "When I went to see Emmaline today, she noticed it, too."

Ethan almost choked. "You went to see Emmaline Wilson?" To say the woman made him feel uncomfortable would be an understatement. Ethan had placed himself in the line of Mrs. Wilson's fire not too long ago. It had been a most unpleasant experience.

"Yes, I did. She actually told me that she was glad I had taken it off."

"Really?"

"I know it sounds strange. I mean, she's Chuck's mother, but we're very close. I could tell her anything."

"She knows about us?" Ethan asked.

Theresa nodded. "She was supportive. As a matter of fact, she's the one who made me realize that everything that happened was Gwen's doing. She was just trying to make me believe the worst about you. I feel bad that I worried Emmaline, though. When I told her that I needed to see her, she thought it had something to do with the message from someone claiming to be Chuck."

"I still can't believe anyone would do anything so despicable," Ethan said. "Theresa, when I find out who was behind this…"

"Ethan, don't say it," Theresa said turning around and putting her finger to his lips.

"Why not?" he asked.

She took a deep breath. "It makes you sound just like Julian and Alistair when you start making threats. I don't like it."

"Theresa, this is who I am," Ethan said sharply. "I might not be a Crane by blood, but they are my family. Besides, no one is all good or all bad."

"That's not true," Theresa said touching his face. "You _are_ a good man. The best man I know."

"Don't put me on a pedestal, Theresa," Ethan said standing and walking out to the deck, the cool air coming off the ocean greeting him.

Theresa followed him. Standing behind him, she wrapped her arms around him, resting her hands on his chest and her head on his back. "No, Ethan. No pedestals. That's what got us in trouble in the first place," she said softly. "I know you aren't perfect, and you know I'm not perfect. I might not have done the things that Gwen made you believe that I did, but I was certainly no angel when it came to you. I lied to you, over and over."

Ethan placed his hands over Theresa's. "You were scared."

"Yes, I was," she replied.

"Fear will make people do things they otherwise wouldn't do; keep secrets they otherwise wouldn't keep."

"It's no excuse. I realize that now. Secrets hurt, Ethan."

Ethan took a deep breath. "They certainly do," he said.

His mind drifted back to the moment he found out the truth of his mother's affair with Sam Bennett; the moment he discovered that Julian Crane was not his biological father. It had been devastating, and in many ways, he'd never completely dealt with the issue. He swept it under the rug, but it still gnawed at him.

He would be damned if he would let his secret grow and fester, until it eventually came out only to hurt Theresa more.

Her voice quivered. "That's why I need to ask your forgiveness, Ethan. I shouldn't have lied to you all those years ago! I should have been strong enough to tell you the truth."

Ethan turned around and smoothed her hair. Guilt wracked through him. She was worried about lies from so long ago when he was living a lie. "Resa, there's nothing to forgive," he said tenderly. "That was a lifetime ago."

She threw her arms around him. "I just don't ever want secrets to separate us again, Ethan. We owe it to each other to always be honest. I promise you, Ethan. I _promise _you that I will not lie to you."

His heart wrenched. "Theresa, there's something we need to talk about."

_"Theresa? Are you out there?"_

It was Luis's voice, and it was coming from her house.

She groaned. After the encounter she had with her brother earlier in the day, she wasn't looking forward to a reprisal. "He has got to work on his timing," she said wryly.

Ethan sighed. He had to tell Theresa everything that happened with Gwen, but between his own hesitancy and Luis's appearance, he was starting to wonder when it would happen.

"Luis, we're out here!" Theresa called back.

"The door was unlocked," he offered as a manner of explanation. Luis walked out onto the deck and looked Ethan up and down. "I need to speak with my sister alone," he said simply.

Ethan met Luis's gaze. "I think that's up to Theresa," Ethan replied.

Theresa shook her head. "Luis, I think we said everything to each other that we needed to say earlier. I love you, but you can't make decisions for me. And I'm certainly not going to make decisions based on whether I have your approval. Not anymore."

"Theresa, I'm not here to preach," Luis said, his voice softening. He looked at his wife's nephew. "Please, Ethan. Give us some time together."

Ethan looked down and Theresa, and she nodded slightly. "I think I'll go take a walk," he said.

"Thank you," Luis said.

Ethan was surprised by Luis's words. He merely nodded and began walking down the beach.

"Why are you here, Luis?" Theresa asked. Her voice was wary, Luis noted. Despite what he'd said, it was obvious to him that she still expected him to pounce.

"I meant what I said, Theresa. I'm not here to tell you what to do—or what to think."

"Then why are you here?"

"Ethan came by the house today. He was looking for you, actually. I've never seen a man so desperate."

"Wh—what does this have to do with you being here?"

"It was the same desperation I see in you whenever Ethan is concerned. I guess I've just realized that regardless of how I feel about this—and believe me when I say that I don't like it—the two of you have a connection that is always going to be there. I hate that you've had your heart broken over and over, Theresa, and I'm not going to be the one to give you grief anymore."

"What are you saying, Luis?"

"I'm saying that I love my baby sister. If Ethan Crane makes you happy, then I'll deal with it."

It wasn't resounding approval, but it was as close of Luis would get. "Oh Luis!" Theresa squealed throwing her arms around her brother. "Ethan does make me happy, and you've made me so happy tonight, too!"

"Just know that I'm still your big brother and if he does anything to hurt you, he'll be answering to me," Luis said, half-seriously, half jokingly.

"Nothing can hurt us anymore, Luis. Nothing at all!" Theresa exclaimed joyously.

* * *

Ethan found himself on the wharf, a place so replete with memories. He thought of the evenings he and Theresa had walked along those very planks, looking out at the water and at the stars. The laughs, the kisses, the embraces….he remembered each one.

Leaning his elbows against the railing, he covered his face with his hands. "How can I do this to her?" he whispered.

He felt so many things at once. Rage toward Gwen for her deceitfulness. Disgust with himself for his gullibility. Disappointment in Andrew for his blatant attempts to hurt him. Guilt for not telling Theresa the truth immediately. Heartsickness knowing how the truth would hurt Theresa. Fear that his Resa would never look at him with love in her eyes again.

"God, give me strength."

"Ethan?" a voice asked from behind him.

Ethan had been so lost in his thoughts, he didn't even hear the footsteps. He spun around and saw Sam Bennett who was dressed in his khaki police uniform.

"Sam," Ethan replied brusquely.

"The wharf probably isn't the best place to be this time of night," Sam said. "There's been a string of muggings in the last two weeks."

"And what have Harmony's finest been doing about it?" Ethan asked, his voice taking on a somewhat cocky tone.

Sam shook his head in dismay. "Look, I was just giving you a friendly piece of advice. And from the looks of it, you could use a friend."

Ethan crossed his arms. "What do you mean by that?"

"Son, you look like hell," Sam replied bluntly.

Ethan was taken aback when he heard Sam address him as 'son.' _Does Sam know?_ he wondered.

Sam noted the strange look that crossed Ethan's features. His eyes narrowed somewhat, and for a brief instant, it reminded Sam of the look that his son Noah sometimes got when he was deep in thought. "Are you okay, Ethan? You just got the strangest look on your face."

_He didn't know._

"I'm fine," Ethan replied turning away from him. Relief washed over him, tinged with a hint of regret. He sometimes found himself wondering about the man who stood with him on the wharf. What was he like away from city council meetings and the police commission? What kind of man was he? What was he like with his children?

Ethan had gotten only a glimpse of Sam as a father figure when his daughter, Kay, died. The grief that he and his wife, Grace, were trying to contain at her memorial service had been so raw, so powerful.

_But Sam Bennett would never know that he had another child._

"I hope you mean it, Ethan," Sam replied before walking away to continue his patrol.

_Just be glad that you aren't me right now_, Ethan thought. _The secret about your past with my mother is safe. My secret isn't._

He stared at the water, willing all the troubles in the world to go away, but knowing that he must face them.

* * *

Theresa was elated. Everything was falling into place! All the resistance that Luis had shown for years was finally melting away. He would support her decisions.

Theresa hoped that it would make things easier for Sheridan, too. Sometimes just the small steps could lead to huge advancements. If Luis could accept Ethan in her life, perhaps they would eventually become friends. Sheridan had wanted that for so long, but it hadn't happened yet.

She was so excited about telling Ethan. Unfortunately, he hadn't come back yet.

She waited for a few minutes, rather impatiently, before grabbing a light jacket. She had a pretty good idea of where he would be.

Theresa made her way down the beach and eventually to the wharf area. Passing some of the local businesses, which were closed for the night, Theresa surveyed her surroundings, looking for any sign of Ethan.

Hearing footsteps behind her, she spun around expecting to see Ethan. Instead she found Drew.

"It's not a good idea for you to be out here by yourself, Theresa," he said.

Her eyes narrowed. He was the last person she wanted to see. "Why? Because that's when all the creepy liars come out of the woodworks?"

Drew chuckled. "I've been called many things in my life, but I've never been called creepy." He studied her. "You look as though you're in much better spirits than the last time I saw you," he noted.

She held her head high. "I decided that I wouldn't let Gwen's tricks get to me."

Andrew raised an eyebrow. "I must tell you, I am thoroughly impressed at how forgiving you are. When I saw Ethan earlier today, he was in an absolute tailspin over what he did."

She crossed her arms. "What are you talking about? Gwen drugged him and made it look as though she and Ethan slept together. Ethan didn't have anything to do with it! It took me a few hours to realize it, but now that I have-"

Drew shook his head. Interrupting her, he exclaimed, "My God! You really don't know, do you? Well, I have to hand it to the Golden Boy, he's outdone himself this time…"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Theresa demanded.

"Theresa, Ethan _did _sleep with Gwen."

Theresa felt her face grow hot, her heart pounding. "You're wrong, Andrew! Ethan wouldn't lie to me."

"For your sake, Beauty, I wish I were."

She held her hands up. "I don't want to hear any more of this. You are nothing but a bold-faced liar, Andrew Crane."

She began to walk away from him, but he followed. "If you don't believe me, ask him. _Just ask him_."

"I don't have to ask him. I know he would not lie to me!"

Drew groaned. "What _is_ it with you? Ever heard of denial, honey?"

"And have you ever heard of therapy, Andrew? You know, they have treatments for pathological liars."

"I only wish Ethan was worthy of your blind faith in him," Drew called after her.

Theresa ignored him, tears of anger flooding her eyes. She continued walking and within thirty seconds she caught sight of Ethan.

"Theresa?" Ethan asked in surprise. "It's not safe for you to be out here by yourself."

She rushed into his arms and clung to him.

"Hey, what's the matter?" he asked soothingly as he wiped away her tears. "Did something happen with Luis?"

"No. Everything went wonderfully with Luis. He—he said he would support my decisions," Theresa replied.

"Then what—" Ethan stopped short.

Did she know?

_Dear God, did she know?_

He held her close, trying to memorize her scent, the way her body felt against him.

Then he saw Andrew walking toward them.

A lump formed in his throat.

"Are you finally going to 'fess up, Ethan?" Drew asked.

Ethan glared at his brother. "You son of a bitch!" he seethed.

"Now is that any way to talk about our dear mother?" Drew asked, his tone cocky. It only served to fuel Ethan's anger all the more.

If not for Theresa, Ethan would have torn into Andrew. She pressed her hands against his chest. "He's not worth it. I _know_ he's lying."

"Ethan, are you going to stand there and let her blindly continue to defend you? Get a backbone!" Drew goaded.

"Theresa." He stopped. He didn't know what to say or how to tell her.

"Ethan?" she questioned. Theresa looked up at him, her brown eyes meeting his blue ones. Her eyes were searching his, searching for anything she could hold onto.

His eyes filled with tears. "I—I'm sorry, Resa."

"Wh—what?" she asked taking a step back.

"Gwen slipped something into my drink last night."

"I know that," she whispered.

"But…"

"But what?" she asked.

"Theresa, she and I—"

"_Dios, no_!" she interrupted. She turned away from him, tears streaming down her face.

She thought her heart was going to tear from her chest.

It couldn't be happening. It couldn't be!

A sob formed in her throat, but she refused to give it sound.

He reached out to touch her shoulder, but she jerked away from his touch. "I never meant for it to happen. I didn't even really know it was happening. It all just seemed like a dream…"

"I. Don't. Want. To. Hear. It," she replied harshly. She turned around to face him. "Why did it take Andrew standing there and goading you before you could tell me the truth? Ethan, you should have told me the truth before now!"

"I tried, Theresa. I can't even tell you how many times I tried tonight, but I was a coward. I didn't want to see the look of hurt in your eyes that I'm seeing right now."

She squared her shoulders. "Well, you aren't going to have to worry about that anymore," she said coolly.

"What do you mean?"

Anger and hurt coursed through her.

"You lied to me, Ethan! You let me go on and on about how badly I felt for not trusting you to begin with. I even asked your forgiveness! How could you stand there and let me go on and on? How could you? So I will show you the same courtesy you once showed me.

"Listen to me, and remember what I say. I don't want to see you again. I don't want to hear from you again. You will not write. You will not call. If you see me coming, you will go the other way. You will _never_ bother me again."

Ethan cringed. Those were the very words he'd once spoken to her. The difference was that she hadn't deserved them. He did.

He felt her slipping away. Why was she always out of reach?

"Please, Theresa, just listen to me," he pleaded.

"I'm tired, Ethan. So very tired of this merry-go-round. So tired of lies and blame and hurting. I meant it, Ethan. You don't have anything to say that I want to hear. Just leave me alone."

With that, she began to walk away.

"Theresa, wait! Even if you don't want to listen to me, let me at least take you home. It's not safe for you to be out here alone."

She rolled her eyes. "The only dangerous person I see out here is you, Ethan Crane! You're a wolf, masquerading in sheep's clothing." She smiled wryly. "Though if it makes you feel better, I'm sure I could find an escort home."

Theresa knew she shouldn't do it. She knew it would only hurt Ethan, but she found herself unable to resist the opportunity.

She walked to where Andrew stood watching what was transpiring. "Will you come home with me?" she asked.

Ethan gasped. It wasn't a simple request to walk her home. It was a request to come home. It took on an entirely different meaning. She was asking Andrew to stay with her for the night.

"I'd be delighted," Drew replied.

He slipped his arm around Theresa's waist, and the two began to walk away. As they did, Drew looked over his shoulder and winked at Ethan.

Ethan could do nothing but watch the woman he loved leave with his brother.

_I've lost her forever._


	59. Chapter 59

**Chapter Fifty-Nine: "Beyond Reach"**

_He reached out for her, but she was beyond his touch. Always beyond his reach._

_"Theresa," he whispered._

_"I don't believe in you anymore."_

Ethan Crane jerked awake, but the image lingered. Expressive brown eyes that had once sparkled, eyes he had once called exquisite, were now filled with hurt and anger. The small hands he had once held in his own were clenched into angry fists. Her soft skin still radiated beauty, but he would never touch her again.

"Resa."

Ethan rubbed his weary eyes. All he wanted to do was take Theresa in his arms and beg her forgiveness_. Yet how can I ask her forgiveness when I don't deserve it?_

A lump formed in his throat when he thought of the words she'd spoken to him the night before. Now he was finally starting to understand how it must have felt for her to hear those same words.

_Listen to me, and remember what I say. I don't want to see you again. I don't want to hear from you again. You will not write. You will not call. If you see me coming, you will go the other way. You will _never_ bother me again._

"I would give anything for you to believe in me again," Ethan whispered.

He flopped back on his pillows. It had nearly killed him when Theresa walked to Andrew and asked him to go home with her. Ethan knew she'd done it out of spite, but he couldn't blame her.

Yet he didn't trust Andrew any farther than he could throw him. Would Theresa be safe with him?

_Does Theresa even want to play it safe anymore? _Ethan wondered.

It was becoming increasingly obvious that his brother had just been salivating at the chance of taking what Ethan wanted. It was a golden opportunity to stick it to him, and he hadn't been able to resist.

The thought of Andrew kissing Theresa, touching her, and holding her nearly drove Ethan mad. Yet what was there to do?

"No! I can't just lie here and feel sorry for myself!" Ethan said bolting up. _Theresa used to tell me that anything worth having is worth fighting for. _

Theresa might not want to have anything to do with him, but Ethan was not about to let Andrew use her time of vulnerability for his own gain.

Ethan pulled on his robe and swung open the door to the bedroom. As he did, he saw his mother walk by.

Ivy spun around, surprised at the sound of the door to one of the guest bedrooms opening. "Ethan? What were you doing in there?"

Ethan grimaced. He wasn't about to sleep in his room again, not until he was able to get rid of his bed. "It's a long story," he replied brusquely.

Ivy studied her son. The circles around his eyes and his harsh tone made her worry. "What's going on, Darling? I noticed yesterday that when Gwen left, she took her suitcases. I would have asked you about it sooner, but I wasn't able to find you."

"Gwen and I are getting divorced," Ethan replied as he walked down the hall.

Ivy stood there, momentarily stunned, but then followed her son. "What? Ethan, are you sure about this?"

"Positive. In fact, I think it might very well be one of the best things I've done in my entire life."

Ivy sputtered. "But—but—you—Gwen…. I just don't understand this!"

"There's not a whole lot to understand, Mother. I was finally able to see my wife for what she truly is. Let's just say that I didn't like what I saw."

"Oh dear," Ivy sighed.

"Mother, I love you, but I don't have time to answer questions right now." Ethan walked into his bedroom and closed the door, leaving his bewildered mother in the hallway.

* * *

After a quick shower, Ethan tore out of the house, determined to see Theresa. It was a cloudy morning, a chilly one, too. Yet the cold didn't phase him as he walked to her door.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked.

He waited.

No answer.

_Please answer, please answer, please answer…_

He knocked once again.

This time, he heard the locks being turned. The door swung open. There stood his brother, shirtless, wearing only his boxer shorts.

When Drew saw Ethan, he groaned. "Don't you get it?" he asked.

"I need to see Theresa," Ethan declared.

"She's still in bed. We had a rather…_tiring_…night."

Ethan thought his heart was going to stop. He didn't want to believe that Theresa and Andrew had been together, not when she'd told him that she wanted to wait until she was married. Yet she'd been so upset. What if….?

"You are disgusting! Don't you have any shame at all?" Ethan asked.

Drew rubbed his chin. "Let me think about it." He paused. "No. Now, why don't you go ahead and leave before Theresa sees you and you embarrass yourself more than you already have. If Father and Grandfather were to see you like this, they would be ashamed."

"I'm my own man," Ethan snarled.

"Right, Ethan," Drew replied with mock seriousness.

Ethan shook his head. "Sometimes I can't believe you and I are brothers. I guess I should count myself lucky that you and Gwen never teamed up. What a pair of vultures you would make."

Drew smiled. "Sticks and stones, Ethan. Sticks and stones."

"This isn't over."

"Let it be over. You get on your high horse about how disgusting I am, how selfish I am. Yet you—you can't even let Theresa have any time to herself to process what she's thinking or feeling. Why are you in such a hurry, Ethan? Is it because you hate to see her hurt, or because you hate feeling guilty?"

_Is he right? Will I cause more harm to Theresa than good if I see her now?_ Ethan's jaw clenched, but he turned around and walked away for her sake.

Andrew shook his head as he watched his brother leave. "Will you ever learn, Mr. Gullible?"

* * *

Theresa stirred when she felt Drew sit on the edge of her bed. Wearily, she opened her eyes. Her eyelids felt unbelievably heavy. Though it was a cloudy day, the light emanating from her skylight made her blink a few times.

"Rise and shine, Sleepyhead," Drew said. "I brought something for you."

She lifted her head and tried to focus on him, but the ache in her head caused her to groan and lie back again.

"Not feeling well this morning?" he asked.

She took the second pillow on her bed and covered her face with it, trying to block out the light. "What do you think?" she asked grumpily.

Drew chuckled a bit. "I think I've never seen anyone drink so much _sangria_. You must have the mother of all hangovers."

Theresa tossed the pillow aside and sat up. "I do _not_ have a hangover," she replied stubbornly.

"Yeah right. Well, I brought something that should help with the hangover that you _don't _have," he replied wryly.

She eyed the glass of reddish-orange liquid he held in his hand with suspicion. "What _is _it?"

"A little tomato juice, olive oil, two raw eggs…"

She nearly gagged. "Get that away from me!"

"All right, but you don't know what you're missing," he replied.

"Are you _trying_ to make me feel worse or does it just come naturally? What are you still doing here, anyway?"

"Being a friend to you. The way I figure it, I'm the only real friend you have."

Theresa balked at that. Who did he think he was? This was a man who had lied to her over and over, the man who used her as a means to get to Ethan. And now he was saying that he was her only real friend?

"What's that old saying, Drew? 'With a friend like you, who needs enemies?'"

He set his concoction on the nightstand before leaning back on her bed next to her. "We're even, Theresa. You have no business feeling self-righteous anymore. Yes, I lied to you. Yes, I used you to get to Ethan. But what did you do last night? You used _me_ to get to Ethan. Same difference."

"What must it be like to live in your world, Andrew?"

He touched her face lightly, amusement shining in his eyes. "You know what this sparring is about, don't you? Sexual tension. You want me."

She rolled her eyes. "_Please_."

"Don't you regret last night?"

"Nothing happened," she reminded him.

"Exactly. That right there should be the cause of many regrets."

"The only regrets I have are that I ever involved myself with you _or_ your brother," she replied, hurt and bitterness creeping into her voice.

Drew yawned. "I was wondering how long it would take you to mention him."

Theresa turned away from him, tears stinging her eyes. She'd spent so long the night before crying. Just when she thought she couldn't cry anymore, new tears would emerge.

Her heart ached for Ethan.

Despite everything, she still wanted to believe in him.

Yet the man she thought he was didn't exist.

He would have gone on letting her believe that nothing had happened with Gwen. Theresa wasn't even so certain about the story he told of being slipped a drug anymore. Maybe he was trying to cover his tracks, placing the blame elsewhere.

It just made her so angry.

How could he make her believe they had a future together and lie to her face? At least Drew admitted himself to be a liar. Theresa doubted Ethan had ever been made to feel a sense of culpability in his entire life.

"I meant what I said, Theresa. I am your only real friend now. What will Whitney say? 'I told you so.' What will Chad say? 'Give Ethan a chance.' What will your brother, Luis, say? He'll tell you how wrong you were and that you were only asking for trouble. And I'm sure he'll throw in a mention those 'those damn Cranes' for good measure. What will Sheridan say? My guess is that she'll probably assume you were after Ethan the entire time and you got what you had coming to you. With me, Theresa, there are no judgments. I accept you as you are."

"I just don't know if I'm coming or going," she whispered.

He smoothed her hair and then pulled her close. He thought she might fight against him, but she didn't. "Then let me help you."

"Why Andrew? Why are you here?"

"I thought that would be obvious by now," he replied.

She met his gaze. "You were a gentleman last night."

"You sound surprised."

"I guess that's because I am."

"Perhaps at one time I would have used last night to my advantage, but I'm not the same opportunist. Well….maybe I am, but just not as bad."

"Leopards can't change their spots," she said softly with a slight smile.

"I know, but if you take lemon juice, you can make those spots fade," he replied. "Lemon juice is a cure-all for leopard spots…and freckles."

Despite everything, despite her heartache, despite her headache, Theresa couldn't help but laugh.

"Stop the presses! Was that laughter I just heard?"

Drew's tone was light, but he was truly relieved. The night before had been terrible. He never realized a woman as small as Theresa had so much water in her. Once the tears came, there was little he could do to stop them. He still marveled at the fact that his brother could evoke such a response from her.

"Don't think it changes anything," she replied, her smile fading.

"You still cracked, Theresa."

She swallowed and turned on her side, propping her aching head with her hand. "Will you tell me something?"

"What?"

"What was it about your upbringing that turned out such a family of liars?"

"That's a bit harsh, don't you think?" he asked, the tone of his voice becoming hard.

"No, I don't think so. Is it that you and Ethan thought I was stupid? I mean, do I have a target painted on me that only you and he can see?"

Drew groaned. "Are we really going to rehash this?"

"Don't you feel the least bit bad, Drew? I mean—you preyed on my trust. And Ethan—I believed in him. Everything that you've said, everything that he's said, have been lies. I know that I'm not the honesty guru. I've made plenty of mistakes, but I never meant to hurt anyone. You—and Ethan—did. I just don't understand it…"

"I can only speak for myself, but it was never about you, Theresa."

"That's so comforting," she replied sarcastically.

"You don't know what it was like growing up in my family, trying to live up to Ethan's accomplishments, starving for approval or even any kind of attention from my parents and grandfather. I saw an opportunity, and I took it. I'm done apologizing."

"Was _that_ what last night was about? You couldn't wait to tell me that Ethan had lied."

"My motives might have been questionable, but are you sorry that I did it?" Drew asked.

"Yes—no—I don't know," she sighed. "All my life, Ethan has been my dream. I thought I had moved on with my life—and then I got sucked back in. I just wanted to believe in him—in us—so badly, I was willing to overlook what was staring me in the face. I don't ever want to lose myself in someone like that again!"

"You asked a moment ago if I thought you were stupid."

"Yes?"

"You're not stupid. You're trusting, innocent in so many ways, and people take advantage of that. You can't control what other people do…and if they do things that hurt you, it's their fault, not yours. Theresa, what Ethan did was his fault. Not yours. What I did was my fault, not yours."

"With everything that has happened, I just—"

Drew held his finger to Theresa's lips. "Sshhh. It's not your fault. People do things all the time that they know they really shouldn't do. Like this—" His lips descended on hers, silencing her gasp.

She pushed away from him and jumped off the bed. "What do you think you are _doing_?"

He looked up her nonchalantly. "Trying my luck."

She crossed her arms. "I appreciate the fact that you brought me home last night, that you gave me a shoulder to cry on, but I am not—I repeat _not_—going to just fall into your arms."

"Why not? It certainly didn't take long for Ethan to fall back into Gwen's arms. You know, this would be the perfect way to teach my brother a lesson."

Her breath caught within her as the image of seeing Ethan and Gwen in his bedroom ran through her mind.

It hurt.

It hurt more than she could have imagined.

But to stoop to petty revenge? And for what?

No. The best way to move forward was to not look back. Yet it made her angry that Andrew Crane would even suggest such a thing. For him to think that she would seek out to hurt Ethan? What did he think of her?

"Dear God, you _do _think I'm stupid! I'm not interested in your attention fetish, Andrew. Stop acting like spoiled little boy and start acting like a man!"

"And you need to stop posturing and start dealing with what's in front of you, Beauty."

Theresa shook her head. "I'm going into the bathroom to take a nice, long, hot shower _alone_. I think it would be a good idea for you to be gone by the time I come back out." With that, she walked into the bathroom.

Drew could hear the lock turn, followed by the sound of running water.

He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. _I should've just said what I meant. It's not just about revenge, Theresa. It's about _you_. I want _you_. But for some reason, you're always beyond my reach._


	60. Chapter 60

**Chapter Sixty: "Measures"**

Rebecca Hotchkiss smoothed her dress as she walked down the stairs in her home. Nothing was happening as she'd intended. Sighing loudly, she put her hands on her hips. All she ever wanted was for her daughter to be happy—and keep her position as Mrs. Ethan Crane and all that went along with it. Yet when Gwen came in the day before and announced that Ethan knew about their tricks and was divorcing her, Rebecca could feel their plans crumbling around them.

Strangely enough, Gwen didn't seem very concerned. In her mind, it was only a temporary setback. Rebecca hadn't been convinced until Gwen confessed her last-ditch effort to preserve her marriage. Rebecca admitted that they might not see an immediate payoff, but her daughter was certain that she and Ethan had created a child together.

Rebecca certainly hoped that was the case. Otherwise everything they'd worked for would be for naught.

She smiled slightly. _Perhaps it wasn't a complete waste._ The only thing worse than Gwen losing Ethan would be if Theresa managed to worm her way into the Crane family. Yet from how Gwen described Theresa's reaction, that didn't look like a possibility anymore.

Sauntering into the living room, Rebecca stopped suddenly, sniffing the air around her. Rolling her eyes, she groaned, "Not those cigars again. Jonathan!" she called out.

No answer.

"Great. He's always around when I don't want him to be, and he's never here when I do want him." She smiled slightly. Maybe it for the best that Jonathan wasn't there. It was Tuesday, and she had scheduled a massage with Pietro. He would, of course, provide other services, as well.

The sound of the doorbell drew Rebecca from her thoughts. Clasping her hands together, she scurried to the door expecting to see Pietro. Instead, a middle-aged man stood on the doorstep carrying an envelope.

"Yes?" Rebecca asked, impatience creeping into her voice.

"I have documents for Gwen Hotchkiss Crane," the man replied.

"Who's at the door, Mother?" Gwen asked as she rounded the corner.

"Someone for you, Dear."

Gwen stood next to her mother.

"Are you Mrs. Crane?" the man asked.

"Yes, I am," Gwen replied as she surveyed him suspiciously.

"I have papers for you," he replied. "Please sign here," he added as he handed her a clipboard. Gwen did as she was told, and the man gave her the envelope.

Rebecca closed the door, not waiting for further word from the messenger. She looked back at her daughter who was making her way through the foyer and back into the living room. Gwen looked pensive as she held the envelope in her hands.

"Aren't you going to open it?" Rebecca asked.

Gwen sat on the sofa. "I think I already know what's in here," she said softly.

Rebecca sat next to her. "Don't you want to make certain?"

Gwen took a deep breath and nodded. She ran her finger under the flap's slight opening, pulling the envelope open. Her heart skipped a beat when she pulled the documents out. "Just as I thought." Shaking her head, she added, "He didn't waste any time."

She tried to fight the tears that filled her eyes, but it was no use.

Rebecca rubbed her daughter's back. "This is just a temporary setback. Weren't you just telling me that yesterday?"

"This just makes it so…so _real_."

"Nothing's final yet! You aren't going to sign those, are you?"

"I don't know," Gwen admitted. "Part of me thinks that letting go might be the best way to bring Ethan back to me. But there's this other part of me, Mother. I just—" she hesitated. "If I _am_ pregnant, I don't want this child to be born without a father."

Rebecca touched her chin, deep in thought. "I hope that you are, my darling. That would change everything. _Everything_."

Gwen sighed. "I've wanted it for so long; just not like this."

"Come now, Gwen. You and I both know Ethan. He's a responsible man. I know that Julian has at times disparaged that fact, but there is no way he would turn his back on you or your child."

"I guess I just want more than that. I want things to be the way they used to be." Gwen smiled as her mind drifted back to another time. "I remember when he couldn't get enough of me. When he first came back to Harmony, the first thing we did was make love on the beach. The waves were crashing around us, the gulls were crying out, but there no was no one else in the world for either of us_. I_ was who he wanted."

"It will be like that again, Gwen. Trust me."

"What if it's too late, Mother? I've tried to be brave, tried to tell myself that everything would work out in the end, but I just don't know. When he looked at me yesterday, I saw disgust in his eyes. He was so angry that I'd hurt Theresa."

Gwen jumped up from the couch and began pacing. "What is it with men and their fascination for her? I mean, Ethan's been fantasizing about her for years, and now Andrew has been sucked in, too."

Rebecca smiled. "Men are stupid, Gwen. They don't think with their brains. How else do you think I got your father to marry me? I'm so much smarter than he is because I _do_ use my head."

"But that doesn't take away the problem. Theresa _is_ a problem."

"She won't be for much longer," Rebecca said, her tone casual.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that Theresa is going to have her hands too full to give Ethan a second thought. She's going to have her own crisis to take care of."

Gwen was alternately filled with glee and fear. She wanted to see Theresa get some semblance of a comeuppance. Yet what could her mother have in mind? "What have you done?"

"The less you know, the better," Rebecca replied with a wink.

* * *

_"Once again, Julian, you've proven your incompetence. I can't say that I'm surprised,"_ Alistair Crane's voice boomed over the speakerphone.

"Father, you know that Ethan has always had a mind of his own," Julian replied before taking a swig of brandy. "I attribute it to his mother's poor influence."

"Put down the liquor, Julian. You can't afford to kill any more brain cells."

Julian rolled his eyes, but complied with his father's demands. He always did as his father asked. There was never any question that he would.

_"Now, we have a problem. A serious problem. We cannot allow this divorce to go through."_

"To be perfectly honest, I don't see why it even matters anymore, Father. The Crane-Hotchkiss merger went through years ago."

_"What do you think Ethan is planning to do?"_ Alistair waited, testing his son.

Julian smirked. "I'm sure he would like to do the _honorable_ thing and marry his little Lopez-Fitzgerald _fajita_. I'm not so sure she'll have him anymore."

_"We can't risk it. I won't take the chance that Theresa will forgive Ethan for his transgressions."_

"How did you know about that?"

_"That's a stupid question, even for you, Julian. I know everything that happens in this family. It's my business, and we most certainly can't have a Lopez-Fitzgerald prying into our business."_

"Sheridan married Luis, and nothing dreadful came to pass," Julian reminded his father.

_"Only because I disowned her. With the exception of the trust fund your mother set up for Sheridan, she has nothing. She was expendable, but Ethan is my heir. Disowning him is not an option. Besides, as you know, the situation is about more than Martin Fitzgerald."_

"You're thinking of the Bennett girl," Julian said.

_"Yes. If you'd done as you were told, it wouldn't even be an issue."_

Julian swallowed hard. "Somehow, I don't think Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald is a threat to us."

_"They're all threats. All of them. You must remember that and never let down your guard. Nevertheless, I've taken measures to deal with the situation."_

"Measures?"

_"Nothing that you need to be concerned about. God knows that if you had an inkling, you would probably find some way to mess it up." _

"So what do you want me to do, Father?"

_"Prevent Ethan from pursuing this divorce to Gwen. You're always talking about his sense of loyalty and honor. Prey on that. We both know those are particular weaknesses of his."_

"I'll do what I can, but Ethan isn't our only problem, Father. It seems that Andrew has an infatuation with Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald, as well."

_"Yes, that is a rather disappointing development. Like I said, if all goes as it should—and it will—it won't be an issue. I have some rather interesting plans for Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald."_

* * *

"How did I get to this point?" Ethan murmured to himself as he walked through Lighthouse Park. "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

"Ethan?" he heard a voice call out.

Ethan spun around and saw Sheridan coming toward him.

"I didn't expect to see you out here," he told her before kissing her lightly on the cheek.

Sheridan smiled and rubbed her stomach gently. "The doctor tells me that walking is the best exercise. Besides, I've been at the youth center all day long. Seeing all the sports equipment and the kids playing was driving me crazy because I know that I can't do any of it right now."

"How much longer?" Ethan asked.

"I'm due in another two weeks. It seems like an eternity, though," she replied.

"How is Luis handling the waiting?"

Sheridan sighed in exasperation. "He's as impatient as ever. I keep telling him that he couldn't possibly want the baby to get here any quicker than I do. He's not the one who has to carry it around!"

"What is it like knowing that you're going to be a parent?" Ethan asked suddenly.

Sheridan looked at him with surprise. His words weren't unusual, but his tone was. Something was going on. "It's—it's nice. To know that a life that Luis and I created together will soon be here…" Her voice trailed off as she studied her nephew's reaction. "Ethan, what is it?"

"I've made a mess of things, Sheridan. A huge mess."

"What happened?" Sheridan asked as she led him to a park bench.

"I don't even know where to start."

"How about at the beginning? That's always a good place."

Ethan took a deep breath. "Sheridan, I never should have married Gwen."

"What? But I thought you loved her!" Sheridan exclaimed.

Ethan shook his head. "I know she's your friend, but she'd not the woman I thought she was. When I think that I almost didn't marry her… Did you know that I had planned to call of the wedding?"

Sheridan replied, "I'd heard rumors, but when you did marry her, I thought that's all they were. Just rumors."

"Theresa swept into my life like a hurricane. I didn't even know what hit me, but I fell in love with her. I—I never stopped loving her."

"Yes, I thought your denials were a bit too fierce. Hers too."

"I was going to tell Gwen as soon as she returned from her business trip. I didn't want to tell her news like that over the phone. Apparently, she caught wind of what was going on, and she took counter-measures."

"Counter-measures? What do you mean by that?"

"Gwen found Theresa's diary on her computer and changed some of the entries, making it seem as though Theresa was using me and was involved with another man. Gwen showed it to me, and foolishly, I believed what I read. After all, there were things in there that only Theresa and I knew about. I was so foolish! I didn't want to believe any of them, but there it was—in black and white."

"I just can't believe that Gwen would do something like that! It just doesn't seem like the Gwen I know."

"Nor does it seem like the Gwen I know, but I guess I didn't know her as well as I thought I did."

"So that explains what happened between you and Theresa. Why you cut her from your life."

"She was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I brushed her aside like she was nothing. When I think of the way I hurt her… What amazes me is that she was willing to give me her heart again—to give me her trust."

"But you have it all settled now? You know the truth. That's what matters, Ethan," Sheridan said touching his arm reassuringly.

"The truth," Ethan repeated, his voice bitter.

"Ethan, you have a wonderful opportunity ahead of you. If Theresa still has your heart…."

"It's not as easy as that," Ethan interrupted. "Sure. I told Gwen I wanted a divorce. As a matter of fact, she should have received the papers by now. But I was so gullible, Sheridan. I should have known she wouldn't give up that easily, not after everything else that has happened."

"What are you talking about?"

"I woke up yesterday morning in bed with Gwen."

"What?"

"As best as I can piece together, she put something in my drink. She has wanted a child for some time now, and this was her last effort at getting what she wanted."

"You mean—"

Ethan nodded. "It didn't seem real, Sheridan. It just seemed like a dream, but when I awoke to find her with me, I knew it hadn't been."

"Oh my God."

"I was supposed to meet Theresa at the park at 11:00. It was almost one o'clock by the time I awoke. Theresa had already been to the house and she'd seen us."

"Oh no, Ethan. She must be devastated!"

"She was. I couldn't find her anywhere. It turns out that she took off to New York to see Emmaline Wilson. While there, she convinced herself that it had just been a trick on Gwen's part and that nothing happened."

"But it _was_ a trick, Ethan. It was."

"Yes, but something did happen." Ethan sighed. "Theresa held onto me so tightly, Sheridan. She looked at me with her beautiful eyes, and I could see the love and hope shining in them. I just didn't have the courage to tell her the whole story."

"Ethan, you have to tell her."

Ethan groaned, thinking of the awful memory. "I was going to, but someone beat me to it."

"Who?" Sheridan asked.

"Andrew." Ethan's jaw clenched. It hurt to think that his own brother would purposely try to hurt him. Yet it made him angry that Andrew would use Theresa to do it. She didn't deserve his callousness.

Sheridan shook her head in disbelief. "But why would Andrew even care? It's not as if he even knows Theresa. Does he?"

"Do you remember the woman Andrew was always talking about meeting?"

"Sure. I couldn't believe that he actually seemed to care for someone."

"It was Theresa," Ethan supplied.

Sheridan clasped her hand over her mouth. "Are you sure?"

"Quite," Ethan replied wryly. "He showed up to the family dinner with her."

"But he had to know that you and she still cared for one another," Sheridan reasoned.

"Oh, he knew," Ethan said bitterly.

"So Andrew told Theresa the rest of the story. How did she take it?"

Ethan swallowed hard. "She didn't. Sheridan, she can't stand the sight of me."

"Oh, Ethan, I'm so sorry!"

"It's my own fault. If I hadn't been such a coward, maybe she and I would be able to work through this, but how can I stand before her and ask for forgiveness? I don't deserve it!"

"Ethan, forgiveness is rarely deserved. But when you truly love someone, that doesn't matter. I know Theresa loves you. It's so obvious to me whenever the two of you are together. Have you spoken to her?"

Ethan shook his head. "I went to her house this morning, but Andrew was there."

"Why is she even spending time with him?" Sheridan asked angrily.

"Andrew might be a snake, but he's a charming one. It bothers me to know that she's with him, but it bothers me even more to think that my brother is only using her to get to me."

"Have you considered that Andrew's feelings for her might be genuine?"

"Please! The only person Andrew cares for is himself!"

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. Do you realize that I've never been alone? Think about it. Since the time I was fifteen years old, Gwen has been in my life—and then there was Theresa."

"Maybe you should take some time and figure out what it is that you want, Ethan. There's nothing wrong with being alone, especially if it will help make things clearer for you in your mind."

"I've been thinking the same thing, Sheridan. I love Theresa. With all my heart, I love her, but so many things have happened. If I'm going to be the type of man I want to be—the type of man that she deserves—I have to make some changes."

"Our fathers will try to fight this, Ethan. You do realize that, don't you?"

"Let them try," he said. "I'm tired of doing what's expected of me. I'm tired of playing the part of the dutiful son and grandson. There are things that I need to do for myself, and if Father and Grandfather can't support me in it, that's too bad."

Sheridan bit her bottom lip nervously. She, better than anyone else, knew that Alistair Crane did not like to be told no. Would he leave Ethan in peace to pursue his own ventures?

* * *

Ethan felt better after his talk with Sheridan. Returning to the mansion, he was ready to put his plan into action, to begin implementing some of those changes.

As he walked in, Julian approached him. "Ethan, my boy, I need to talk with you, man to man."

Ethan took a deep breath. He knew what was coming, and he knew it wouldn't be pleasant.

The two walked into the library, and Julian settled behind his desk in his austere leather chair. Leaning slightly forward, Julian said, "I think you know why I called you in here."

Ethan sat across from the man he'd called father all his life, the man whom he knew was about to invoke the tried-and-true 'Crane family responsibilities' speech. Ethan didn't want to hear it.

"Yes, I know."

Julian smiled slightly. He knew that all Ethan needed was a gentle reminder. "Then you also know that you cannot go through with this divorce," Julian replied. "Crane men do not get divorced. Lord knows, I would have divorced your mother hundreds of times over by now if we did."

"This is not an issue open to discussion," Ethan replied. "I've made my decisions."

"Your grandfather is very disturbed by this, Ethan."

"I'm sure that he is," Ethan conceded.

"And you know how he gets when he becomes 'disturbed' by something."

Ethan frowned. He remembered all-too-well how Alistair had continually interfered with Sheridan's relationship with Luis. He remembered the lies, the manipulations, how his grandfather preyed on Sheridan's fears.

Squaring his shoulders, Ethan replied, "I don't have any control over what grandfather feels, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let him control how _I_ feel."

Julian nearly gasped, but managed to contain himself. He halfway expected his father to call at any moment to set Ethan straight. The man had an uncanny ability to know exactly what was happening at what moment.

Ethan saw Julian's shock. "I've always done what was asked of me. It's time for me to do what I want to do."

"Son, there's no sense in divorcing Gwen. Theresa won't be with you. Not now."

"Perhaps not, but I have to look at myself in the mirror everyday. And right now, the person I see is not the person I want to be."

Julian sighed. "You're being melodramatic."

"Am I?"

"Yes, you are. Love isn't a feeling, Ethan. It's a chemical reaction. What you think you feel for Theresa isn't love. It's lust. Pure and simple."

"Have you ever really been in love?"

Julian thought for a moment, a faint image of a woman filling his mind. A woman with the voice of an angel. Pushing the image aside, Julian replied, "Whether I have or haven't been isn't an issue. Just trust me on this, my boy. You've never felt your grandfather's wrath. It's not something that you want."

Ethan stood. "I'll take my chances."

With that, he walked from the library.

Julian turned around in his chair and rubbed his temples. "The foolishness of youth," he said quietly. "Be careful, Ethan. Be careful."

* * *

Theresa watched the indicator on the answering machine light up when the pre-recorded message began to play. She'd been screening calls all day, not yet ready to speak with Ethan should he try to call.

In a way, she'd been surprised that he hadn't come by or called. Maybe it was for the best. A clean break. Yes, that was what she needed.

But to just see him one more time….

_No_! she thought angrily. _A clean break…a clean break…_

"….so leave a message after the beep…"

Theresa shook her head in disgust and began to walk back through the living room, but when she heard the voice on her machine, she froze.

It couldn't be.

It couldn't!

_"Theresa, I know you're home. Pick up."_

"Chuck," she said softly. She rushed to the phone, but hesitated about picking it up.

Her head was spinning. It was impossible. He was dead! Wasn't he?

_"Why did you do it, Theresa? Why did you take off my ring?"_

Slowly, Theresa picked up the receiver.


	61. Chapter 61

**Chapter Sixty-One: "The Storm"**

"Who is this?" Theresa asked as she held the phone receiver to her ear. "What do you want?"

_"Don't say anything. Just listen. I'm still out here, Theresa. You have to help me. Don't give up on me. Don't give up on _us_!"_

Theresa swallowed hard. It was Chuck's voice. Of that, she was certain. But how could it be possible?

_"I have to go. They're coming—" _

Nothing. Then a dial tone.

Slowly, shakily, Theresa put down the phone. The answering machine clicked off, the indicator light blinking. Pressing play, Theresa listened to the conversation again.

_"Theresa, I know you're home. Pick up." _A pause_. "Why did you do it, Theresa? Why did you take off my ring?"_

_"Who is this?" _Theresa heard her voice ask. _"What do you want?"_

_"Don't say anything. Just listen. I'm still out here, Theresa. You have to help me. Don't give up on me. Don't give up on _us_!"_

Theresa leaned against the counter in her kitchen and rubbed her eyes. "Am I going crazy?" she asked aloud.

Moving swiftly, she pulled her phone book from one of the drawers. Finding the main number for Crane Industries, she dialed it.

_"How may I direct your call?"_ a woman on the other end of the line asked.

"Gary Livingston, please. Technology department."

_"One moment."_

The call was transferred. Theresa recognized the familiar clicking sound.

_"Gary Livingston speaking."_

"Mr. Livingston, this is Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald."

_"Well, hello, Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald. What can I do for you?"_

"I got another call, Mr. Livingston, but this time, it's on my machine. No doubt about it."

"Could you bring it in?"

"Yes. Right away," Theresa replied before hanging up. She glanced back at her answering machine before disconnecting the cords. "I need to know…one way or the other."

* * *

Drew took a table at Brazen, watching the people around him. The lunch crowd was quite thick that day. He wasn't surprised. Brazen had a flavor and a flare all on its own.

He waited for a server to come. Yet he was surprised when he saw the man who ran Brazen approach him.

"Chad Harris, right?" Drew asked.

"That's right," Chad replied. His tone was not friendly.

Drew leaned back in his chair, mildly amused by Chad's attitude. "I take it this isn't a social call."

"You take it right. I've always prided myself on bein' pretty laid back, but there are certain things I won't stand for."

"Here goes," Drew muttered.

"You purposely used my friend Theresa to hurt another friend of mine."

"Yes, I did," he admitted.

"Your own brother," Chad said shaking his head in disgust.

"Do you have any siblings?" Drew studied him for a reaction.

Chad took in a deep breath. He quite honestly didn't know. The question gnawed at him—a question he'd asked himself countless times. "Not that I know of."

"If you did, you'd understand," Drew replied. "It's a competition. _Life_ is a competition. How you play the game is all that matters."

Chad was taken aback. Andrew's matter-of-fact tone disturbed him. "Don't you even care?"

"Would you believe me even if I said I did? I don't think so. Now, why are you wasting my time?"

"Actually, you're the one who's a-wastin' my time." Chad turned and pointed toward Whitney who was sitting at the bar eating her lunch. "See that beautiful young lady over there?"

Drew looked. He recognized her from Theresa's boutique and from the various pictures he'd seen at Theresa's house. "Yes. Whitney."

"That's right. Let's just say that if she sees you, she's gonna want to tear into you. I might be wantin' to help her, so I think it would be best if you would save us both the trouble and just leave now."

"Let me get this straight," Drew replied, incredulity filtering in his façade of confidence. "_You_ are throwing _me_ out of here? I'm a Crane!"

Chad shook his head. "Apparently only when it's convenient."

Drew chuckled. "You're an honest man. I can see why Ethan likes to spend time with you. Perhaps you should spend more time with him, though. Maybe some of your blatant honesty will rub off on him."

Chad knew that Andrew was setting the bait, but he couldn't help but bite. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Drew stood. "Just that Ethan and Theresa aren't together, but surprise—it's Ethan's fault. Maybe you should ask him what this sexual fascination with Gwen is all about, because frankly, I just don't get it."

Chad watched as Ethan's brother left. "What was _that_?"

* * *

"What is it, Julian?" Ivy asked, her voice full of irritation. Her husband had been pacing the living room for the last ten minutes. It made concentrating on her decorating book rather difficult.

He glared at her. "What is it, Julian? What is it, Julian?" he repeated, mocking her tone. "Do you _even_ have to ask?"

Ivy sighed. "I stopped trying to read your mind a long time ago when I realized that there was nothing there _to_ read."

"You need to sharpen your tongue, _Dearest_, if you plan to get to me. You're losing your touch."

She rolled her eyes. "Just spill it."

"Our son is getting divorced."

"What's wrong, Julian? Jealous?"

"Terribly," he replied, "but that's not the issue at hand."

Ivy crossed her arms. "I already know about Ethan's plans. I can't say that I'm thrilled about it, but I will support him in anything that he chooses to do."

"God, you are such a bleeding heart, Ivy. What about the family's interests? Have you forgotten that?"

"You got your merger six years ago. What more do you want, Julian? Just let my son be happy."

"_Our _son, Ivy, and he still has responsibilities to us whether he likes it or not."

"You and Alistair don't own him. The sooner you realize that, the better."

"For your sake, Ivy, I hope you change your tune."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"If anything happens to undermine this family, you're going down with us."

"Aren't you being a little melodramatic? Divorces happen all the time."

"Yes, but not every family has a Lopez-Fitzgerald sniffing around. Oh, she might be running scared now, but Ethan's little dish will eventually come running back, if for nothing else but the jewels. You took it upon yourself to find all the skeletons, and now you're stuck with them, and so is our son."

Ivy stood and turned away from her husband. "Does Alistair know?"

Julian chuckled. "Does he know? Please, this is Father we're talking about. The man knows everything—sometimes before it happens, I think."

"What is he saying?"

"That Ethan had better get in line—or else."

Ivy's voice shook. "Do you think he might do something to hurt Ethan?"

"No. Ethan is too _precious _to him. Theresa, on the other hand, means nothing."

* * *

Opening the door of his office, Ethan walked inside. It had been his domain for over six years. Since he graduated from law school and returned to Harmony, it had virtually been his home away from home.

But not anymore.

Just a few minutes earlier, he'd tendered his resignation from the legal department at Crane Industries. He'd met the shocked stares of those in the office, but they said nothing. What _could _they say?

Setting a box on his desk, Ethan looked around. From the view of his window, he could see the ocean in the distance. A storm was brewing.

In its early years as a shipping company, Crane Industries had been so dependent upon the ocean. Eventually branching out into other ventures under the jurisdiction of Alistair Crane, the company had grown from a respectable-sized corporation to a major global conglomeration.

But what did any of it mean? _Nothing_. The Crane family grew wealthier, adding gold to its coffers, while other people struggled.

Ethan walked to the far wall and gently removed his framed law degree.

All his life, his mother had taught him the value of helping others, of being generous. Yet what had he done? He'd sat in his cushy office, worked with people who paid him deference, not because he'd earned it but because of his name, and he just existed. He smoothed his ruffled conscience by supporting various charities, but what had he, Ethan Crane, actually done?

Nothing.

And it wasn't good enough anymore.

He walked back to his desk and placed the frame into the box. Sitting behind the desk, he opened the drawers, pulling out his personal effects. His favorite pen, a Chris Isaak CD, a small photograph of beautiful, dark-haired girl.

Ethan's breath caught within him when he saw Theresa smiling at him from the picture he held in his hand. "Will I ever see that smile again?" he wondered aloud.

He would do anything if he could take back the past. There were so many things he would change. He would be the man he knew he should be, a man worthy of Theresa's love.

He swallowed hard as he remembered the look of utter devastation in her eyes. And he'd put that look in her eyes more times than he cared to admit. _I should have believed in you, trusted in our love_.

He loved her and wanted her in his life, but more than anything else, he wanted her to be happy. At one time, he was certain that he was the man who could make her happy. Now he wasn't so certain anymore, especially when all he'd managed to do was heap pain upon her.

He'd lived a life without Theresa for the last six years, and it had been utter hell. Yet what choice did he have now? How could he even meet her gaze? How could he ask her forgiveness when he didn't even deserve it?

Tears stung his blue eyes, and he tried to force the painful thoughts from his mind.

He tucked the photo inside his jacket pocket to keep it close to his heart.

Another photograph caught his eye: his wedding photo to Gwen. It was situated in an ornate frame on his desktop. He picked it up and studied it.

How it seemed like a lifetime ago!

Disgust permeated him. Sadness, too. The girl Gwen had once been—if she'd ever existed—was gone. In her place was a cold, calculating manipulator.

Ethan knew that he hadn't been the ideal husband. It couldn't have been easy for Gwen to be married to someone who carried feelings for someone else. But if not for her lies and his own foolishness, they would never have married in the first place.

Shaking his head, he took the photo and dropped it in the trash.

A clap of thunder sounded. The gray clouds were finally about to spill what they'd threatened all day. Ethan sighed. It somehow seemed appropriate.

A storm was coming—in more ways than one.

His Father and Grandfather would be furious once they learned his intentions. Ethan had already leased office space on the waterfront. It wasn't the best location—it was, after all, most definitely not on the reputable side of town.

The space itself would require some work, but Ethan planned to do it himself.

It was an exciting prospect to open up his own law office and provide services to people who truly needed them, not just practicing law for the sake of adding to his family's wealth. He expected that he would be working _pro bono_ on most of his cases, but what did it matter? He wasn't hurting for money, and it especially didn't seem right to take from people who could ill afford it.

Ethan was alternately thrilled and terrified to move out from the sphere of Crane influence. He'd been given a name—whether rightfully or not—and it was time to start using it in an effective way.

But the storm—it was definitely on its way.

* * *

"This is something I can work with," Gary Livingston told Theresa after she played the answering machine's message from him. "Have you contacted the phone company?"

Theresa nodded. "I asked them to put a trace on the call, but thus far, they haven't gotten back to me."

Mr. Livingston rubbed his mustache, a nervous habit that Theresa had immediately noticed. "You'll have to keep on them. Throw around the Crane name, if necessary. Being acquainted with Ethan Crane certainly doesn't hurt you any."

Theresa took a deep breath, the mention of Ethan sending pangs through her. "I'll be doing this on my own, but thank you for the suggestion."

Mr. Livingston raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. "Did you bring a sample of Mr. Wilson's voice from another source?"

Theresa reached into her bag and pulled out a videotape. "Yes. Chuck was always speaking at one function or another, mostly charity related. This is from a benefit tennis match three years ago."

Gary took the tape from her. "This should be most helpful."

"I appreciate it, Mr. Livingston. More than I can say."

"We'll figure out what's going on, Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald. One way or the other."

* * *

Theresa stood outside of Mr. Livingston's office, partly relieved, partly anxious. She remembered what Ethan had told her, that there was no way that Chuck could still be alive. Yet a glimmer of hope rose within her. If he was…if somehow he had survived and needed her help….

_No. I can't do this to myself!_ her mind shouted. _I can't let myself hope again!_

It was just so strange. The voice sounded like Chuck, but the words…

She touched her left ring finger. It was bare. How would Chuck know that even if he were alive? The eeriness of his words… it gave her chills.

Slowly, she walked down the hall and stopped before the elevators. Pressing the down button, she waited for the one of the sets of doors to come open. A moment later, the doors slid open. She noticed someone holding a rather large, overflowing box as she stepped inside.

The doors closed behind her and the elevator began to move again. She recognized the familiar, stomach-lurching sensation that she felt whenever she was in one of the machines. She would be glad when she was finally out.

"Theresa?"

She froze.

_That voice. _

She turned and saw the man had lowered the box. Her gaze met Ethan's. Quickly, she turned back around. Seeing him made her want to melt.

She was disgusted. With herself. With him. With the whole situation.

And yet she felt an undeniable pull to him. Why did she find herself wanting to still be with him? It didn't make any sense!

"I—I didn't expect to see you here today," he said, hoping he sounded casual. Inside, he felt as though his heart would jump out of his chest.

She tried to distance herself. She couldn't afford to get drawn in again. "Don't talk to me, Ethan. Whatever you have to say, I don't want to hear it," she said coldly.

"I understand," he replied, disheartened. He had so much he wanted to tell her, but it was obvious that she wasn't ready to hear it.

Yet she surprised him by spinning around, anger flaring in her eyes, "Oh, you _understand_? How _big_ of you."

Rolling her eyes, she reached for the controls on the wall panel, but before she could touch them, the gentle humming of the elevator powered down.

The lights flickered before they were immersed in complete darkness.


	62. Chapter 62

**Chapter Sixty-Two: "The Icing on the Cake"**

Theresa groaned. "Why is it that I always get stuck in enclosed areas with you?"

Ethan bristled at the annoyance she showed toward him. "Blame Mother Nature, blame fate, but don't blame me," he replied.

"I know this one isn't your fault," she conceded, calming her tone somewhat. "It's just that I—I don't like small places, especially in the dark."

"The lights should come on at any second," he replied as soothingly as he could. As if to accentuate his point, the emergency lights flickered on providing a reprieve from the darkness.

"That's better," she replied. Looking to the wall panel, she reached for the emergency phone. Pressing the call out button, she waited for someone on the other end to answer.

Nothing.

"Hello?" she asked impatiently. "_Hello?"_

Nothing.

She shook her head in frustration. "Your family has more money than they know what to do with, and they can't even keep the emergency phones in the elevators working."

She fished through her purse, finally pulling out her cell phone. Flipping it open, she was dismayed to discover that the battery indicator light was blinking. "Please, please, please," she mumbled, hoping it had enough power left for her to make one last call.

Nothing.

Ethan set his box to the side. He could tell that panic was starting to set in. He couldn't decide if it was because of her dislike of enclosed spaces or because she was trapped with him.

"It's going to be okay," he assured her.

She ignored his words of comfort. "Do you have your phone?" she asked.

"Yes, but—"

"Then what are you waiting for?" she asked impatiently.

"Theresa—"

"Where is it, Ethan?" She didn't wait for an answer. Frantically, she began checking the pockets of his jacket. She started with the pockets near his waist first before pulling open the jacket and checking the inside pockets. Her hands rested on the plastic of the phone, and she pulled it from his pocket, bringing with it a small photograph.

The photo fell to the floor, and Ethan hurried to pick it up before she could see it.

His actions were not lost on her. "What is that?"

"Nothing," he replied quickly moving his hand behind his back and with it the picture of Theresa he held.

She crossed her arms. "I want to see what you're hiding," she insisted.

"I'm not hiding anything."

"More lies, Ethan?" she asked, perhaps more tartly than she'd intended. She groaned and turned away from him. Holding the phone in her hand, she was dismayed to discover that the battery had been taken out.

"I tried to tell you," he reminded her. "I took the battery out earlier today. I didn't feel like talking to anyone."

"Why didn't you just turn it off?"

"I was making a grand gesture," he replied. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, to free himself from the possibility of being reached, freeing himself from the umbrella of everything Crane. Now it didn't seem so smart.

Theresa sank to the ground and leaned against the wall. The throbbing in her head was starting to come back. It had been a miserable day all around. This was just the icing on the cake.

"I don't want to be in here with you," she said bluntly.

"Yes, I figured that," he replied as he tucked the photo back in his pocket and sat across from her. "And I can't say that I blame you. I know I hurt you, Theresa. Again." He shook his head. "It's getting to be a bad habit."

Her gaze rested on him. "Or is it just a game you play? You tell me to jump, and I say 'How high.' Not anymore, Ethan."

"I would do anything if I could take it back, Resa. _Anything_." He spoke quietly but with great fervency.

"Which part? The part where you slept with Gwen? Or the part where I caught you in a lie?"

He ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "Both actually."

She raised an eyebrow, surprised by his answer.

"I wish neither had happened. I wish I hadn't taken that stupid drink, that I would have used better judgment. I wish I would have told you the whole truth instead of letting you believe something that wasn't true. You shouldn't have found out the way you did."

"At least Andrew told me the truth. The same can't be said for you."

"But I think we both know why he did it." Ethan shook his head. "Andrew has always been a user."

"It must run in the family."

Her words stung, and Ethan looked away from her. "If there's to be nothing between us, Theresa, find a decent man. My brother doesn't know the meaning of the word. When I stopped by this morning, he couldn't wait to rub my nose in the fact that he stayed with you last night."

"You were at my house this morning?" she asked, her voice tinged with surprise.

"I know. It was selfish of me. I should have stayed away, but I couldn't."

"Drew didn't tell me."

"He mentioned that you were still in bed," Ethan replied. "That you'd had an _interesting _night." His heart dropped at the memory. He hated the idea of Theresa being so hurt, she would welcome his brother to her bed.

"And you assumed the worst. You know, Ethan, unlike some people, I can't turn my emotions on and off like a faucet. Yes, Drew stayed with me, mostly serving me sangria and letting me cry. If or when I sleep with Drew, it will be because I want him, not because I'm trying to get back at you."

Ethan felt a wave of relief wash over him, but it was mingled with disbelief, as well.

"Is that what you think I've done? That I just snapped my fingers and turned off my feelings for you? Do you even have _any_ idea of what I feel for you?" Ethan asked her.

Theresa looked away from him.

He moved closer to her, gently taking her face between his hands. "Theresa, you are the best thing that has _ever _happened to me! You tore into my life, showed me that living isn't just about expectations. It's about the possibilities. Every night, I have dreamed about you, longing to be near you. When I _am_ near you, I feel as though my heart is beating so fast, it's going to explode." He took her hand and placed it over his chest. "Can't you feel that?"

Theresa swallowed hard. Being near him, hearing him speak of his love for her was almost more than she could bear. She felt the tears welling up in her eyes. She wanted so badly to believe in him, but how could she? For all his pronouncements of love, he'd still been with Gwen and lied about it.

"You feel that way today, Ethan, but what about tomorrow…or the next day? After all, you were declaring your undying love for me just minutes before you hopped into bed with Gwen!"

"Theresa, it wasn't like that. You _know_ it wasn't!"

She shrank away from him. "What I know, Ethan, is that every time I give you my heart, you break it all over again."

He took her hands in his and held them up to his cheek. "Please, Theresa," he begged. "Believe in me again. Believe in us again. _Please_."

"I don't know how. I'm all out of faith. Between you, Drew, and Chuck, there is nothing left of me to give."

"What about Chuck?"

Theresa bit her bottom lip. She hadn't meant to arouse his suspicions, to let him know that anything out of the ordinary was going on. "Nothing."

"Theresa, has something else happened?" Ethan asked, genuine concern in his voice.

Theresa looked into his blue eyes, seeing the sincere concern there. "I got another call today, Ethan. That's why I was here in the first place."

"Another call? You mean—"

"Yes, another call from someone claiming to be Chuck. Ethan, it sounded just like him. All of this—it's just—God, I don't even know what to call it or how to describe it."

"What did he say this time?"

"He asked me why I took off my engagement ring and told me not to give up on him. He also asked for my help. Ethan, what if—"

"Theresa," he said gently, "I checked it out. There is no way."

"But if you were somehow wrong…." she suggested, her voice trailing off.

He brushed away a stray strand of hair that had fallen across her forehead. "For your sake, for Emmaline Wilson's sake, I wish I were. Someone is doing this deliberately! Someone is trying to hurt you."

Theresa felt a chill run through her and she involuntarily shuddered. "Who could be so cruel?"

Ethan rubbed his forehead. He had a few suspects. At one time, he would never have thought these people capable, but now….One way or another, he was going to get to the bottom of it. "What have you done about this, Resa?"

"I spoke to Mr. Livingston. He's analyzing the message for me. I also contacted the phone company. They haven't gotten back to me yet, but I'm sure they will. I'll bug them until they do."

"Good girl," Ethan replied, pride in his voice. His Resa was a strong woman, stronger than most people gave her credit.

"That is—if we ever get out of here. Do you even think they realize we're stuck?"

A clap of thunder sounded. Ethan turned to her. "I'm sure the electricity is out all over the building, but they'll be checking for the elevators. They'll find us soon."

She nodded.

He took a deep breath. He couldn't contain what he'd been wanting to tell her since he saw she was in the elevator with him. "Resa, I love you."

"Ethan, I can't hear this right now."

"If not now, then when? Theresa, I'm scared to death that when those doors open and you walk through them, you'll be walking out of my life forever."

She sighed. "I wish it _were_ that simple. Walking away from you is not as easy as I thought it would be."

He touched her face gently and leaned his forehead against hers. "That's not necessarily a bad thing, you know."

Her heart began beating wildly at his nearness. She hated that he could have such an effect on her. "Why did you have to make me love you?" she whispered.

"Why did you have to make _me _love _you_?" he countered.

Lightly, his lips brushed against hers, testing her to see what she would do. Instinctively, she pulled him closer, his kiss deeper. Hungrily, she kissed him, no longer caring about the past or the future, just the here and now.

No one and nothing existed for her but Ethan in those brief moments. She was losing herself in him, and it frightened her.

No. She wouldn't lose herself_. Not again_.

She pushed away from him, trying to regain her composure. "Just so that you know, that kiss didn't mean anything."

"Then this one won't mean anything, either," he replied as he pulled her close and covered her mouth with his own. She clung to him, and he lightly traced kisses across her jaw line and down the column of her neck, finally resting at the soft crook of it.

Her breathing was growing more rapid, as was his. She knew she should keep her distance, but she craved him. Wanted him.

Ethan's head was spinning. He wasn't sure what would happen between them, but for one glorious moment, she was his again.

_It felt amazing._

It was then that he discovered his face was wet with tears, and he realized they were his own.

Theresa touched his face and softly kissed away his tears.

His heart pounded at her tenderness—at her nearness.

Her hands slipped underneath his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders. He tossed it aside. Teasingly, she made a path down his chest with her fingertips.

He drew in a breath as he looked at her eyes. They were shrouded with a fire he'd never seen in them before.

She was driving him crazy, and she knew it.

He felt her tug at his shirt, untucking it before she slid her hands underneath it and up his back.

He gasped. It was a simple touch, but he never knew something so simple could evoke such sensations.

"Theresa, I love you….I love you….I love you….Only you…" He breathed against her between kisses.

She froze. They were the same words he'd spoken to her when he left her house the other night—right before he and Gwen….

She felt sick.

Pulling away from him, she stood, putting distance between them.

"Theresa—" Ethan began, standing and reaching for her.

She put out her arm in warning. "Don't, Ethan. Just don't. Don't touch me!" She turned away from him and pounded the palm of her hand on the elevator's wall panel. "What is wrong with me? The first thing I do is fall back into the same trap!"

"Is that what being with me is? A _trap_?" he asked, the hurt evident in his voice.

She looked back at him. "For me it is."

"I see."

She took a deep breath, trying to find the strength to say what she knew she had to say. "No, I don't think you do. Ethan, I might want to kiss you. I might want to pretend that nothing's changed. I might want you in my life, but what I want and what I _need_ are two _entirely_ different things."

"Theresa, you love me. I _know_ you do! That hasn't changed."

"And God help me, but it probably won't change. But Ethan, you're my addiction, and it's time that I break the habit."

Ethan leaned his head against the wall. All his hopes…. All his dreams…. Within his grasp, but always elusive….

"I need to get my head on straight. When I'm with you, all rhyme and reason goes out the window, and I can't afford that right now. I need to be able to look in the mirror each day and like the person staring back at me."

"I hate Gwen," Ethan said, his voice containing an unearthly calm. "I _hate_ Gwen."

Theresa felt her throat closing up as tears came to her eyes once again. "This isn't just about Gwen, Ethan, but that I was willing to believe anything—to grasp at any straws—to be with you. It's the fact that I was willing to forget who I am—to lose myself in you. I don't want to be that person! It's too reminiscent of the foolish girl I used to be, living on lies, praying that I wouldn't be caught. Honesty is too important to me, and I have to be honest with myself."

"I should have had the strength to be honest with you, Theresa."

"Just as I should have had the strength to be honest with you, too, those years ago."

"We can't change it, but we can move forward."

She shook her head. "I need distance, Ethan. I need to find my own path."

"I'm not going to give up on you, Resa."

"Do what you have to do, Ethan, but know that I'm going to do what _I_ have to do."

With that, Theresa knelt down and took his jacket, waiting for him to stop her. He didn't. Silently, she reached into his pocket and felt for the item he'd kept from her earlier. Pulling it out, she drew in a breath. It was a small photograph of her.

A range of emotions flashed across her features. Disbelief, sadness, love.

Ethan marveled at the woman who stood before him. He was amazed by her strength, her persistence, her level-headedness. No, she wasn't the girl he once knew. She was even better.

It would take time to rebuild what was lost, to find a new common ground, but he knew that it would be worth it.

Anything worth having was worth fighting for.


	63. Chapter 63

**Chapter Sixty-Three: "You Can't Have it Both Ways"**

Theresa unlocked the door to her home and walked inside. Closing the door, she leaned against it and took a deep breath.

_Nothing ever turns out the way you think it will_, she thought.

She never imagined that she would even _want_ to see Ethan again. Yet when they'd been trapped in the elevator, she found herself drawn to him all over again. When the electricity came back on and the lift started moving again, feelings of relief and regret mingled through her. She wouldn't be near Ethan anymore, but she wanted to be. She wanted to stay with him, but she knew she would have to walk away.

Walking away from Ethan was perhaps the most difficult thing she'd ever had to do.

His eyes held her captive, as though they could stare straight into her soul. She'd always been mesmerized by his eyes. They were the perfect shade of crystal blue, so clear, with just a hint of mischief in them.

_And his lips_. She'd always loved his lips. They were full, wonderfully kissable, and always held the promise of a smile. Theresa unconsciously touched her own lips, remembering how it felt to kiss him. Her heart beat quickly at the memory and how she'd wanted so much more from him.

He loved her. She didn't doubt that anymore.

But what was love without trust? And how could she just look the other way when there was so much she needed to work out for herself?

She sighed as Serendipity came running toward her, rubbing his lithe but fluffy body against her legs.

She reached down and picked him up. "What the matter, sweetie? Not enough attention today?" she asked. It had been a rather stressful day between her encounter with Drew, the mysterious phone call, and getting stuck in an elevator with Ethan.

She held the cat level with her eyes, remembering when she'd first seen him. Serendipity had been part of Chuck's unique proposal to her.

_Oh Chuck, what is going on? Is it really you? Is it a trick? Please, please let it be you._

Theresa fought back the tears that were in danger of welling in her eyes. She'd been doing more than her fair share of crying in the last few days, and she was tired of it.

"Something good has to be around the corner, Serendipity. It just has to be."

* * *

Ethan Crane, with his arms full, gently kicked the door closed with his foot after he walked into the mansion. What a crazy day it had been! What had started out as perhaps one of the worst he'd ever experienced was ending on a note of hope.

He would earn Theresa's trust again.

She still loved him! Of that, he had no doubt.

His heart quickened as he remembered their kisses. The way she'd touched him had sent flames shooting through him. She captivated him, body and soul.

Quite simply, she took his breath away.

He sighed. Loving each other had never been a problem. It was what they did about that love—or rather didn't do—that had been a problem.

Ethan had so many regrets: regret that he didn't trust Theresa when he should have, regret that he allowed his foolish pride to get in the way of his heart's desire, regret that he trusted the wrong people, regret that he'd allowed his family to dictate the direction his life would follow, and regret that he hadn't been the man he wanted to be.

It was time to leave those regrets behind, and he would. He was determined to make everything right—as it should be.

Ethan started up the stairs with his box of belongings from the office. That packing was just beginning. It was time to truly forge ahead on his own. That meant leaving the confines of the Crane Mansion and the Crane sphere of influence.

"Ethan, my boy, I'm glad you're home. I've been trying to reach you for some time," Julian said walking into the foyer.

"I didn't have my phone turned on," Ethan replied.

"That's not a good idea. What if some emergency had come up? How would Father and I have reached you?"

Ethan looked down at Julian, barely containing the annoyance he felt. "Grandfather would undoubtedly have found a way. He's quite resourceful."

He tried to continue up the stairs, but Julian continued talking to him, which halted his progress. "We aren't done, Ethan."

His father spoke with authority and had a domineering quality. It wasn't something that Ethan had heard much lately. It was actually reminiscent of when he was a child and would be called into his father's study for a reprimand.

Ethan turned and looked at him, meeting his challenging gaze.

It was then that Julian took notice of the box Ethan held in his arms. "What is that?"

"My belongings from the office. I resigned my position at Crane Industries today."

"You _what_?" Julian bellowed. It wasn't often that he lost complete control, at least with Ethan, but of all the things he'd expected his son to say, this wasn't one of them.

"From your reaction, I'm fairly certain you heard me," Ethan replied wryly.

"And you didn't even bother to consult me beforehand?" Julian demanded.

"So you could try to talk me out of it?" Ethan asked. "I did what I had to do."

Julian rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you're trying to 'find' yourself? God knows Andrew's been doing that for years now, and he's still playing 'Where's Andrew.'"

"I won't lie to you. It has occurred to me that it would be nice to _discover_ things about myself rather than being _told_ things about myself."

"Ethan, you are the Crane heir. With that title comes specific obligations. We can afford to have your brother gallivanting across the globe because we don't need him. We do, however, need you."

Ethan shook his head. "Perhaps you should try 'needing' Andrew a bit more. He's resourceful, a bit unscrupulous. He should fit the bill nicely."

Julian groaned and threw his arms up in the air, filled with frustration. "What is this? Is the whole world going mad? This is all your mother's fault, you know! Her influence, her softness. She did always have an unusual involvement with you that she didn't have with the others. And now look what's happened!"

"This isn't about Mother. This is about _my_ decision and what is best for _me_. Please try to respect that."

Ethan continued up the stairs, ready to leave the conversation behind.

* * *

Julian swallowed hard. Father was not going to be pleased. He dreaded knowing just what that displeasure would entail.

It was then that the doorbell rang.

Julian, trying to mask the sense of resignation he felt, walked to the door and opened it. On the front doorstep stood Chad Harris.

"Oh. It's you," Julian said, the disdain obvious in his voice. The young man standing before him had created waves in Julian's life some time ago, waves that he didn't appreciate.

Nor did his nose appreciate it. When T.C. Russell found out about Eve's affair with Julian years ago…and that Chad Harris might be the product of that affair… he behaved like a madman. It had taken three grown men to pull T.C. off Julian, but not before he'd managed to break Julian's nose and knock out two teeth.

Chad's jaw clenched. His relationship with Julian Crane was strained at best. There was a time a few years ago that he believed it possible that the man who stood before him so condescendingly was his father. Chad thanked the gods for miracles when DNA tests proved otherwise. He thought that the Cranes, with the exception of Ethan and Sheridan, were nothing but vultures, benefiting from the pain of others.

"Now don't get all excited or nothin'. I'm not here to see you."

"I'll try to contain myself," Julian replied wryly.

He begrudgingly stepped aside, allowing Chad access into the mansion. His eyes remained fixed on the young man.

Exasperated, Chad said, "Look here. I'm not gonna steal your silver. I just wanna see Ethan. Got a problem with that?"

"Would it matter if I did?" Julian asked before he walked away.

"Get a hobby," Chad mumbled before walking up the stairs toward Ethan's room.

Stopping outside the room, he knocked.

"Father, I think we've said everything that needs to be said," Chad heard Ethan call through the door.

"Well, that may be the case, but I most certainly ain't your pops," Chad replied.

The door swung open and Chad saw his friend smile sheepishly. "Sorry about that, Chad."

Chad walked into his friend's bedroom and immediately noticed something was different. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something was definitely different…

Ethan, seeing the strange expression on his friend's face, asked him about it. "What's wrong?"

"Nothin' really. Just noticin' that somethin's different."

"Oh. I have a different bed, mattress, new sheets, and a new comforter."

Chad nodded. "Whatever floats your boat, my man. Whatever floats your boat." His gaze continued around the room, finally realizing that all traces of femininity were gone. "I take it that Gwen's gone."

Ethan's expression hardened. An unbelievable sense of loathing filled his being whenever her name was mentioned. "She's gone, but definitely not forgotten."

Chad raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like somethin' happened. Man, you shouldn't let her get to you like that. You and Theresa are gonna have smooth sailin' ahead." He grinned. "I knew it was the right thing to do when I locked yous up."

Ethan sat on the edge of his bed. "It's not as simple as that," Ethan started.

"What do you mean? You love Theresa. Theresa loves you. What's the problem?"

"I messed up, Chad. I really messed up."

Chad drew in a breath, and the words that Ethan's brother spoke suddenly popped into his mind.

_"…Ethan and Theresa aren't together, but surprise—it's Ethan's fault. Maybe you should ask him what this sexual fascination with Gwen is all about, because frankly, I just don't get it."_

He hadn't taken them seriously at the time, but now he had to wonder. "What happened?"

"After I took Theresa home, I came back here to talk to Gwen, to tell her that I know how she lied to us all these years, manipulated the situation. I let her know that I wanted a divorce."

"So far, so good," Chad commented.

Ethan ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "Gwen began to talk of the past. She wanted us to have one last drink together for old times' sake. It went against my better judgment, but I went along with her. The next thing I knew, I woke up. It was past noon, and I felt like I'd been hit by a train."

"She put something in your drink?" Chad asked.

"That's the only thing I can come up with," Ethan replied. He paused before continuing. "She was in bed with me…naked."

"Ah hell!"

"It gets worse. She told me that Theresa had been here and saw us."

"No way."

"I could have killed her, Chad! I have never felt such blind hatred toward anyone in my entire life!"

"But if you were out of it, nothin' coulda happened. Right?"

Ethan took a deep breath. "Not exactly. I was having these dreams, Chad. At least, they seemed like dreams."

Chad groaned. "Glad I'm not you. Bein' with Gwen sounds more like a nightmare to me. So that's why Theresa is upset with you? But surely she's realized it was a trick. I'll talk to her. See what I can do."

Chad started for the door, but Ethan stopped him. "There's more."

Chad spun around, incredulity showing on his face_. "More?"_

"Theresa came to realize it was a trick, but she had convinced herself that nothing had happened between Gwen and me. I—" his voice trailed off.

"You…?"

"I didn't have the courage to set her straight, Chad. I didn't want to tell her that yes, it was a trick, but that I had slept with Gwen. I kept putting it off and putting it off. When I was ready to tell her, it was too late. Theresa found out from Andrew."

"You didn't tell her?" Chad asked, disbelief marring his voice and his features. "_You didn't tell her? _Man, you are full of shit!Don't you think it woulda been better comin' from you instead of from your brother? No doubt he was gettin' a kick out of the entire thing."

"Don't you think I know that, Chad? Look, I don't like what I did. I'm not proud of it in the least!"

Chad crossed his arms. "So what are you gonna do about it?"

"I'm going to get Theresa back," Ethan declared.

"Hate to break it to ya, but that ain't gonna be easy."

"Nothing worth having comes easily," Ethan told him. He glanced at the box of items he'd taken from his office. "I just don't like what I've become. I'm making some changes. Hopefully, I'll become a man worthy of her trust again."

Chad noticed the box, walked to where it was set on the desk, and peered inside. "Isn't all this from your office?" he asked as he pulled out Ethan's framed law diploma.

"I resigned from Crane Industries today."

Chad held up the diploma. "Guess you're lucky you've got this expensive piece of paper."

"You don't sound surprised," Ethan replied.

"Nah. Guess that's 'cause I'm not. I've been waitin' a long time for you to do this."

"How did you know?" Ethan asked.

"'Cause you've always had it in you. You defied your family by pursuin' a relationship with Theresa those years ago. Sure, they snapped you back into line, but the cat was outta the bag. It was only a matter of time…"

"You had that much confidence in me?"

"Yeah. I mean, you're my bro and all, even if you do stupid, _stupid_ things sometimes."

"Just when I think we're about to have a Hallmark moment….," Ethan replied with a smile.

"Nah. I'm not gettin' sentimental on you or nothin'. Just statin' the facts. I'm glad you're movin' on, Ethan, and though I never wanted to say it, I'm glad you're movin' on without Gwen. She's one scary chick."

"Tell me about it," Ethan replied.

Chad's words were glib, but Ethan couldn't help but feel more of a weight to what his friend said.

Gwen was desperate, which desperation, in itself, could cause people to do scary things. She'd already crossed the line. Ethan just prayed that she wasn't pregnant. He wasn't sure what he would do if that were the case.

"Look, why don't I take you out for some coffee? We can celebrate bachelorhood."

"You won't be a bachelor for much longer," Ethan reminded his friend.

"Yeah. Well, gives me an excuse for some caffeine. Let's go."

* * *

"Now aren't you glad I talked you into this?" Whitney asked as she and Theresa picked up their lattes from the counter at the Book Café.

Theresa nodded. "You always know what I need," she replied.

"I still can't believe this happened, Theresa. I honestly think that the next time I see Ethan, I'm going to have to strangle him. Seriously."

Whitney shook her head in disgust. At one time she thought that Ethan was a decent person. Now she was convinced that the opposite was quite true. How could he claim to love Theresa and act as he had?

"I am moving on with my life, Whit. Before you know it, it's going to be '_Ethan who_?' Just wait and see."

Whitney smiled at her friend, but didn't believe a word that Theresa said. How many times had she heard Theresa say the exact same words? Probably more times than she could count.

"Want to look at the magazines?" Theresa asked.

"Sure," Whitney replied.

"I've been dying to get the latest issue of _Magnifique_. My new ad campaign is running in it."

"We'll see if we can find it."

The friends walked to the far wall, covered with shelves of magazines.

Theresa sighed. "There are so many!"

Whitney laughed lightly. "Well, the Book Café is never lacking, that's for sure." Her eyes scanned the rows of magazines. She noticed several tennis magazines, which caught her attention. There was, of course, the usual supply of tabloids, financial journals, news publications, exercising magazines, and fashion magazines.

Theresa saw _Magnifique_ before Whitney did. "Got it," she said reaching out to grab it. As she did, she knocked off a tabloid from the row below it.

"Oops," she said as she reached down to pick it up. She started to smooth it, but froze. On the front cover of _The National Intruder _was a picture of Ethan and her.

Seeing Theresa's reaction, Whitney asked, "What is it?"

Still in shock, Theresa turned the paper around to show her friend.

Whitney frowned. "It's nothing but trash, Honey. Just put it away."

"I know it's trash, but I want to know what they're saying."

Theresa began to open the rag.

"I don't think this is a good idea…"

But Theresa wasn't listening. She was reading.

'Tongues were wagging two nights ago at the exclusive Seascape Restaurant in Harmony when a family affair was blown sky high. Which family you may ask? The Crane family, the crème de la crème of New England society. It turns out that this family, which usually manages to keep scandals under wraps, is certainly a closely-knit group, sharing _everything_.

Old man Alistair certainly must not have been too pleased to learn that his grandsons, Ethan, the heir to the Crane Empire, and Andrew, a notorious pleasure seeker, have _both_ been seeking pleasure in Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald, the internationally renowned fashion designer. For those of you with good memories, you will recall that Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald and the older Crane brother share a past. In fact, many insiders at one time speculated that Ethan's merger-er marriage-—to Gwen Hotchkiss would not take place because of the Cranes' former housekeeper's daughter.

It seems that the younger brother brought Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald to a Crane family dinner, hosted at the aforementioned Seascape. Ethan was apparently so enraged upon seeing his brother with his former (and current) lover, he physically attacked Andrew in the dining room.

Looks like neither brother wants to share his favorite toy after all.

Word is that Ethan is divorcing his wife, Gwen. This shouldn't be too surprising considering he left her at the restaurant to follow his mistress, who left the scene in an obvious state of discomfort.

Our words of advice to Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald: You can't have it both ways.'

Theresa closed the tabloid, her face ashen. She'd spent so long trying to repair her reputation, longing for people to not think the worst of her.

But now the rumors were flying fast and everyone _would_ think badly of her. _She_ would be getting the blame for Ethan and Gwen's divorce. _She_ would be the object of stares and whispers again.

Her mother would be disappointed.

Luis would be disappointed.

"Are you okay?" Whitney asked touching her shoulder.

"Fine," Theresa replied crisply. "I promised myself that I wouldn't do this. I wouldn't let people get to me, but it's hard. It's just hard."

"The rain's stopped. Want to go for a walk?"

"How about a run?" Theresa countered. "I could definitely use a run about now."

"A run it is. We can swing by my place to get some clothes and head over to your house."

Theresa nodded. "I just need to get this issue of _Magnifique_."

"I'll wait for you outside," Whitney replied.

Theresa walked to the counter and made the purchase. Once done, she spun around, ready to make her exit.

She ran straight into Ethan.


	64. Chapter 64

**Chapter Sixty-Four: "A Powerful Punch"**

Theresa spun around and ran right into someone. "Excuse me," she said absently as the person steadied her in his arms. Then she realized just who that someone was.

Her breath caught within her.

"Don't worry about it, Theresa," Ethan replied. His heart leaped at seeing her. When she'd walked away from the elevator, he wasn't certain when he'd see her again.

He smiled to himself. Perhaps fate was on his side.

Theresa pulled away from him, realizing she'd allowed herself to be held longer than was necessary after she'd regained her balance. "Good night," she said quietly before turning away from him.

"Theresa, wait—" he called after her.

She merely turned around and shook her head before continuing out the door.

"Damn," Ethan muttered.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much, Mister," the young lady behind the counter commented. "It wasn't your fault. She was already upset."

Ethan grimaced.

"Yeah. I was watching her. She and her friend seemed to be in good spirits until they got over to the magazine rack. I think she saw something she didn't like. Then you could have knocked her over with a feather," the girl supplied.

Ethan rubbed his chin in thought. So it wasn't about him. At least that part was good. But what could have Theresa so upset?

"Thanks," he said to the clerk before heading toward the magazine section of the Book Café.

Standing before the enormous selection of various magazines and newspapers, Ethan groaned. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack. His eyes scanned the periodicals.

"Lookin' for somethin'?" Chad asked as he walked toward his friend.

Ethan turned and glanced at Chad. "I guess I am," Ethan replied.

"What? Maybe I can help you."

"That's just it," Ethan replied. "I'm not certain what I'm looking for."

Chad shook his head and spoke half-jokingly, half-seriously, "You are one messed up guy. The woman you love just left this place and all you can think about is finding a magazine to read."

"So you saw Theresa?" Ethan asked, his voice tinged with desperation. He cringed upon hearing himself.

"Yeah. She didn't look too happy. You know, you're lucky that Whitney didn't see ya. I think blood mighta been drawn if she had."

Ethan nodded. Thank heavens for small favors. He'd noticed that Whitney had been rummaging through the glove compartment of her car as he was walking into the shop, so he'd managed to get inside undetected.

"She's pretty angry at me," Ethan stated.

"Angry? _Angry_? Nah man. I got an earful from her. She's more than angry with yous."

"I deserve it."

"Yeah. You do," Chad agreed.

"Did she happen to mention anything about Theresa?"

"She was sayin' somethin' about a tabloid, but Theresa came out, and Whit clammed up."

"A tabloid!" Ethan exclaimed. His eyes quickly scanned the magazines until he found the tabloid section located below the fashion magazine section. Then he saw it: _The National Inquisitor._ A picture of Theresa and himself was situated on the cover.

He grabbed it from the shelf.

"Whatcha got?" Chad asked.

Ethan held the paper out in disgust. "Vultures."

Chad crossed his arms. "Definitely not the most flattering picture. You're usually more photogenic."

"I'm glad you think this is so amusing," Ethan replied, annoyance tinged in his voice.

"Come one, Man. No one takes these rags seriously!" Chad protested.

"Maybe, maybe not, but they still shouldn't get away with everything they do."

Ethan leafed through the pages until he found the article he was looking for and he began to read.

'Tongues were wagging two nights ago at the exclusive Seascape Restaurant in Harmony when a family affair was blown sky high. Which family you may ask? The Crane family, the crème de la crème of New England society. It turns out that this family, which usually manages to keep scandals under wraps, is certainly a closely-knit group, sharing _everything_.

Old man Alistair certainly must not have been too pleased to learn that his grandsons, Ethan, the heir to the Crane Empire, and Andrew, a notorious pleasure seeker, have _both_ been seeking pleasure in Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald, the internationally renowned fashion designer. For those of you with good memories, you will recall that Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald and the older Crane brother share a past. In fact, many insiders at one time speculated that Ethan's merger-er marriage-—to Gwen Hotchkiss would not take place because of the Cranes' former housekeeper's daughter.

It seems that the younger brother brought Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald to a Crane family dinner, hosted at the aforementioned Seascape. Ethan was apparently so enraged upon seeing his brother with his former (and current) lover, he physically attacked Andrew in the dining room.

Looks like neither brother wants to share his favorite toy after all.

Word is that Ethan is divorcing his wife, Gwen. This shouldn't be too surprising considering he left her at the restaurant to follow his mistress, who left the scene in an obvious state of discomfort.

Our words of advice to Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald: You can't have it both ways.'

"This is all my fault," Ethan whispered as he set the magazine back on the rack. "I should have believed in her. If only I hadn't been so quick to point fingers…. She doesn't deserve this!"

Chad picked up a copy of _The National Inquisitor _and quickly ran through the article. "Looks like they took off the gloves."

Wordlessly, Ethan walked to one of the plush sofas and plopped down. Chad followed.

"I'm sure it stung, but Theresa will be fine," Chad assured him.

Ethan shook his head. "It's not as simple as that. This was a slap in the face to her, Chad. She was hurt and angry that I didn't believe in her, but there was something else. She told me that all her life, all she ever had was her reputation—her good name. When she left Harmony, she left with her reputation in shambles. Everyone thought the worst of her—thanks to me. One of the things she wanted to do was repair people's perceptions of her. And now I've struck again."

"You aren't the one who printed this trash," Chad pointed out.

"I know. I know. It's just that this is another reminder to me and to her that I didn't have the faith in her that I should have had. I let her down. _Again._"

"Well, you know….Whitney and Theresa were gonna go for a run. If I could distract Whitney for awhile, what would you do?"

"I'd want to see Theresa, talk with her." _Hold her, kiss her, ask her to run away with me, never let her go…_

"I think we might be able to manage that," Chad replied with a grin.

* * *

"Who was that on the phone?" Theresa asked as Whitney walked out of her bedroom donning running shorts and a sweatshirt.

"Chad," Whitney replied, her voice filled with concern. "He said that he wasn't feeling well."

"That's odd," Theresa replied. "He seemed fine a few minutes ago."

"He did, didn't he? Something doesn't add up," Whitney said as she sat next to Theresa and began lacing up her shoes.

"But you know Chad. He's not the type to make a big deal about things. Whatever it is, it must have hit him suddenly and hit him hard."

"Theresa, would you mind terribly if…"

"Don't even worry about it, Whit. I'm a big girl, and I'm fine. See?" Theresa asked flashing her friend a smile. Though she didn't feel like putting on a happy face, she didn't want her friend to be concerned about her. "You can just drop me off at my house before you head over to his place."

"Thanks for understanding," Whitney replied.

"No problem. Good luck, though. I remember when Chuck would get sick, he would be the biggest grouch."

Whitney hesitated about broaching the subject of Chuck, but she couldn't resist. "What do you think that Mr. Livingston will find?"

Theresa shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, I know what I would like for him to find. I miss Chuck—a lot. It does get easier as time goes by, but there are so many things I want to say to him. So many things…" her voice trailed off.

Whitney licked her lips. Her friend had this whole other life that in so many ways was a mystery to her. They always remained close, but once Theresa left Harmony, it did become more difficult to know and understand the different aspects of each other's lives.

"I'm sure that Mr. Livingston will have some answers for you very soon," Whitney said, hoping that she sounded confident.

Theresa nodded. "I'm sure you're right, but waiting is so very hard."

"Hang in there. Everything is going to work out. You'll see."

Theresa took a deep breath. "Ready to go?"

"Just as soon as I change clothes…again."

"You mean you don't want to wear workout clothes? Why on earth not?" Theresa teased.

"Ha ha," Whitney replied sarcastically before heading back into her bedroom.

Theresa couldn't help but smile. There was a time when Whitney would have argued that she wanted nothing to do with Chad, and she certainly would not have gone out of her way to make herself look good. _Things do change_.

A couple of minutes later, Whitney emerged from her bedroom after putting on a fresh change of clothes. "Now I'm ready."

* * *

_I owe you big time for this, Chad_, Ethan thought as he walked to the back deck of Theresa's home that overlooked the ocean. He was about the knock on the door when she slid the glass door open.

She was clad in running shorts, a long sleeved t-shirt, running shoes, and socks. Her long, dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and her face was scrubbed clean of makeup.

"Theresa," he said.

She screamed and shot out her fist, knocking him in the eye.

"Oww! What was that for?" Ethan demanded. His left eye was watering and stung like hell. For one so small, she packed a powerful punch.

She clasped her hands over her mouth, horror sinking in. "I didn't know it was you, Ethan," she said apologetically before adding in an accusing voice, "You scared me!"

"I didn't mean to scare you. Believe me, I'll avoid that at all costs next time."

Theresa looked at him and saw he was gingerly touching his eye. She closed the distance between them and reached up, taking his face between her small hands. "Let me see," she said gently.

He moved his hand, his eye still smarting.

"I can't tell much in this light—or lack thereof," she murmured. "Come inside."

He followed her, the light stinging his eye. She gasped when she saw him. He had the definite beginning of a black eye.

"I hope you don't have any really important business meetings in the next few days," she told him. "I think you're going to have quite a shiner." Her tone was glib, something that was not lost on Ethan.

"You almost sound pleased with yourself."

"Well you shouldn't have been skulking about on my deck, Ethan Crane," she snapped back.

"I was about to knock on your door," he replied.

"Don't you think we've already said everything that needs to be said?" she asked, feeling utterly exasperated. Just when she had talked herself into thinking she could move on, he popped up, bringing with him a whole slew of old feelings that just wouldn't go away.

She didn't wait for his answer, instead giving him instructions. "Come over here to this light so I can see better."

"I don't want to," he replied sullenly. "The light hurts."

She sighed, muttered in Spanish about what a _bebe grande_ he was, and walked into her kitchen, grabbing an ice pack from her freezer. She wrapped it in a clean dishtowel and brought it out to him.

He took it from her, their hands making brief contact. Despite the cold wrap he held in his hand, he felt feverish. A simple touch, a simple look from her could turn him inside out.

"Are you sure ice is the way to go?"

"What else would you use?"

"I don't know. Heat maybe."

His words were innocent, but his tone wasn't. She chose to ignore the underlying meaning of his words. "Ethan, didn't you play baseball in school? You should know all about this stuff!"

He sighed. She wasn't going to play along. "That was a long time ago. Plus, I used to always get it mixed up when to use a heat pack versus an ice pack."

"It's ice to bring down the swelling and heat the soothe. Perhaps in this case, ice will cause your swelling ego to shrink."

"And heat will soothe the savage beast?" Ethan shot back.

He sat on the couch and she sat next to him on her knees, sideways. Taking the ice pack from him, she propped her elbow on the back of the sofa, and held the pack to his eye. "I am sorry about this," she told him, seriousness creeping back into her voice. "I wouldn't hurt you for anything."

"I know, Resa. I know."

"We've got to stop running into each other," she said.

"I don't _want_ to stop seeing you," he replied bluntly.

"This…this isn't good for us, Ethan. We need different things. It's as simple as that."

"There's nothing simple about it," he replied. He added with suddenness, "I'm sorry about the tabloid."

"H-how did you know?" she asked, surprise etching her features.

"The girl in the Book Café mentioned that she thought something you saw in one of the magazines might have upset you. I found the tabloid, and I was worried about you."

Her heart pounded. His gesture was touching. "You came out here because you were worried about me? And what did I do? I punched you!"

She groaned.

"At least it got me inside your house," he replied with a smile.

Despite the tumult of emotions she was feeling, she couldn't help but smile in return. "You are incorrigible!"

"I learned from you."

"Oh no you don't!" she said laughing. "I'm willing to bet that you were a very mischievous little boy but got away with a lot by feigning innocence. _I_ certainly didn't teach you that!"

"My brother and I did get into quite a few scrapes," he admitted. "I remember this time we took our mother's green masque and put it all over ourselves. We were going to be the Incredible Hulk."

"Oh no!"

"And it just so happened my parents had a house full of guests that night."

Theresa could just picture Julian Crane's anger and Ivy Crane's amusement over the situation.

"Mama never told me that story. She said you were always such a good little boy. I never completely bought it, though. You know, those stories that my mother told are what made me start to wonder about you—dream about you. It seems so long ago."

"It was a long time ago."

"You have a birthday coming up, don't you?"

He groaned. "Don't remind me. I'm going to be the big 3-0."

"That's positively ancient!" she teased. "Maybe I should get you a walking cane."

"Don't forget the Polident," he supplied.

She giggled. "And the Geritol." She sighed. "You know, I actually look forward to being old. I mean, really old. Then someday I can look back and laugh at myself and how things that seemed so important really weren't."

"Like the tabloid."

"Yeah. Like the tabloid. I mean—it really bothers me, Ethan. I won't say that it doesn't. But in the grand scheme of the universe, what does it matter? In a few days, it will be old news. And if people get their kicks from reading false information about us, I suppose I should feel sorry for them rather than being angry."

"It sounds like you've thought about this," he said.

"I've had a little while to process the information."

"When I'm older, I just don't want to look back at the past with regrets," he replied.

"I guess that's up to you," she said. "And what you choose to do now."

"I would regret it if I didn't tell you that I think you are the most amazing woman I've ever known, Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. And I would regret it if I didn't tell you that my heart is beating so fast right now. And I would regret it if I didn't tell you that I want to kiss you."

"Ethan, don't…"she said softly as she pulled away from him. Standing, she walked to the window. It was impossible to see out because it was dark outside and the lights were on inside, but she could imagine what it must look like. She would concentrate on that. Yes, she had to. If she didn't, she would let herself get drawn back in.

"Theresa." He was standing behind her. She could feel his breath against her neck. His very nearness was making it difficult to keep her resolve.

It was a losing battle. She closed her eyes and let herself melt into him. His arms encircled her from behind and held her close.

"I love you," he said. "And that is something I will _never_ regret."

She turned around, and he touched her face gently. "You are so beautiful," he murmured. "So very beautiful." He leaned down, his lips coming very close to hers. Yet she was surprised when he kissed her tenderly…on the cheek.

Theresa felt waves of emotion rush over her from his simple, innocent gesture. She looked at him, amazement shining in her eyes.

"I should go," he said moving away from her. "Goodnight, Theresa."

She watched wordlessly as he left. Touching her cheek, she knew she was in danger of losing herself to him.

Her resolve was going out the window, and somehow, she just couldn't make herself care.


	65. Chapter 65

**Author's Notes: **Thanks so much for the reviews and for all of you who are still reading. This has been a long story. :)

Just a quick warning about this chapter: it's not for the kiddies. It's not extremely graphic, but there is a scene in here. 

* * *

**Chapter Sixty-Five: "One Step Forward"**

_Lying on her stomach, she turned her head to the side and smiled at him. He lay next to her gently running his fingers down her bare back._

_She sighed and closed her eyes, perfectly content. _

_"I never thought we would be close like this," she purred._

_"A love like ours doesn't go away. It doesn't die," he replied huskily. _

_"After all this time…for us to find our way back to each other…"_

_He smiled at her. "I seem to remember a certain young woman who would say that it was fate," he teased._

_"No fair, mister! You used the 'f' word," she giggled. She moved closer to him, resting her head on his chest. "I never want this moment to end."_

_"Not even if it might end in an even better way?" he asked._

_She propped her head on his chest and looked into his eyes, seeing a glint of mischief. "What did you have in mind?" she asked._

_"Why don't I show you?" he suggested with a grin as he ran his hand across her thigh. _

Theresa jerked awake, her breathing heavy. She looked next to her and saw only the emptiness of her bed.

"It was just a dream. Just a dream…"

She threw the covers off and swung her legs over the side of her bed. Her feet hit the floor and she walked into the bathroom adjacent to her bedroom. Standing over the sink, she turned on the cold water and splashed it over her face. Leaning against the counter, she looked into the mirror. Water dripped off her face, finding its way into her eyes.

"This is ridiculous," Theresa muttered. Grabbing a towel, she dried her face. She then brushed her teeth.

She stripped off her nightgown and left it lying on the bathroom floor. Walking back into her bedroom, she pulled running clothes from the top drawer of her chest of drawers. After dressing, she headed down the stairs, fed Serendipity, and was about to head out the backdoor onto the beach when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Is this Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald?" the voice on the other end asked.

"Yes. This is she."

"Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald, this is Bob Hampton from Northeast Telecom. I am calling in regards to your request to have a phone call traced."

Theresa's heart began to beat wildly. Perhaps he would have the information for which she'd been waiting for so long.

"I have a list of names and numbers for each call you received yesterday—with the exception of one that was untraceable."

Her heart sank, but she crossed her fingers. "Will you please read them to me?"

"Certainly. Whitney Russell, 555-8834. Yvette Gilliam, 555-9081. Miguel Lopez-Fitzgerald, 555-6347. And then there was the one that was untraceable."

"Mr. Hampton, what makes a call untraceable?"

"A number of factors. Some people have equipment that prohibits the transmission of that information. A few years ago when caller ID became widely available, people began to take measures against it. It's also possible that the person was calling long-distance and wasn't on the phone long enough for a trace to be made."

"Th-thank you," Theresa said numbly.

"No problem, Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald. Here at Northeast Telecom, we're always glad to be of service." With that, Mr. Hampton hung up the phone.

Theresa returned the phone to its receptacle.

She sank onto her sofa and grabbed the framed photo of Chuck that sat on the end table. Lightly tracing her fingers across his face, she sighed. The questions, the uncertainty, were starting to get to her. "Is it really you?" she whispered.

She placed the photo back on the end table and stood. One door was closed to her with the phone company being unable to trace the call. She just hoped that the other door wouldn't close. She prayed that Mr. Livingston would be able to determine if the voice on the answering machine —the person that called her—really was Chuck.

All she wanted to do was crawl back into bed and hide under the covers, but the world was not going to stop turning just because she wanted it to. Walking out on the deck, she stretched for a few minutes before taking off down the beach in a fast-paced jog.

* * *

Seeing the figure jogging on the beach, Drew couldn't help but think it was time that Theresa developed some new habits. Every morning it was the same. She went for a run, went home, ate breakfast, and went to work. He could almost set his clock by her running schedule.

Today was somewhat different, though. She was keeping a faster pace than usual.

_That woman needs to find a better way to expend her energy,_ Drew thought. _I could give her a couple of suggestions…_

Watching her slender body move, he couldn't help but want her. He only wished that he'd been more successful with her earlier. Maybe if they slept together, he could finally get her out of his system once and for all.

He turned from where he stood on the pier and looked at the ocean.

Drew hated feeling this way. He hated knowing that, in a manner of speaking, Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald had a power over him. This was particularly disturbing to him when he was the one used to wielding power.

_And like everyone else, she thinks Ethan hangs the moon._

The thought of his brother brought a frown to his face. Everyone had always adored Ethan. It was something he'd noticed early on in life. Their father, grandfather, and especially their mother always coddled him, always praised him, always pointed to him as the epitome of what a son and grandson should be. He was a good lawyer, an effective businessman, hard-working, loyal, and provided a favorable image for the family.

Why compete with that?

It became obvious to Andrew early on that if he wanted attention from his family, it wasn't going to be by doing good things. No accomplishments he made, no grand gestures, could compete with the Golden Boy. No, Ethan had already cornered the market on 'perfection.'

So it became easier to do what he wanted. He'd made it through school on his charm, good looks, and wit; not through hard work.

There came a time when he thought that perhaps the straight-laced approach would garner approval from his family. Foolishly—_foolishly_—he'd completed graduate school, thinking it would make his family take notice of him. It would demonstrate to them that he wasn't the screw-up that everyone thought he was. He'd given up his gallivanting, settling into a calmer life. He'd even put effort into his school during the two years thinking it might make some difference in how his family saw him.

It didn't.

So he drifted from place to place, doing what he wanted, seeing what he wanted, with little regard to those around him.

So why did he have to drift back into Harmony and fall for the girl who loved his brother? He'd intended to work her over, not care about her. Unfortunately, that was exactly what he'd done.

And now it was time to do or die.

Either he needed to lay everything on the line, pull out all the stops, or turn around, walk away, and cut his losses.

Decisions, decisions…..

* * *

Gwen sat up, straightening the twisted sheet before pulling it over her body and settling on the bed again.

"Don't cover up. I like looking at you," the man said tugging at the sheet.

"I'm cold," she replied in protest.

He rolled on top of her. "Spread your legs. I'll make you _so_ hot."

"That's not very romantic," she said.

"Romance? And I thought you were just here for the sex," he growled as he playfully nipped at her breasts.

"Make me," she challenged.

"What?" he asked.

Gwen smiled at him. "I said make me. Make me have sex with you."

"What game are you playing?" he asked as he pulled away from her.

"The game that says if you want me, you have to take me. You do want me, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"Then take me!"

He covered her body with his once again, took her arms, and pinned them above her head. With his knee, he pried her legs apart, settling between them.

"Make me, Tom. Make me," she whispered.

He thrust into her with force as she took him deep. He smiled as he saw the look of satisfaction on her face. "I told you I'd make you hot."

A few minutes later, Gwen straddled Tom's lap as he lay back on the bed. Her hands lightly ran up and down his chest.

He groaned. "You were amazing. I'm glad I ran into you again."

"You certainly did run into me. Again. And again. And again," Gwen replied.

"Mmmm. I love it when you talk dirty," he teased.

"What can I say? It comes naturally when I'm with you."

Tom laughed heartily. "Just what every man wants to hear. I was really surprised to see you, you know. I thought I was hallucinating when I saw you standing on my doorstep. I thought we had a great time when we last saw each other, but I expected it to be a one-time deal."

"I thought so, too," Gwen admitted, "but here I am."

"You know what this means, don't you?"

"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"It means we're going to have to have an actual conversation," he replied.

She rolled away from him. "I'd rather not."

"Come on," he said pulling her close. "All I know is that your name is Theresa and that you live here in Harmony."

Gwen drew in a breath. She'd almost forgotten that she'd even given Theresa's name as her own the first time they met. When she'd shown up at his apartment the night before, they hadn't exactly done much talking.

It had seemed like such a great lark at the time.

She smiled.

Men were so easy.

"What more do you want to know?"

"I don't know—everything. Do you have a job? Where did you go to school? Do you have a family—or a husband?"

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. "Those sound remarkably like relationship questions. I thought we were going to keep this strictly physical."

"Yeah, I know. But I'm curious. Aren't you the least bit curious about me?"

"Oh, I think I know everything I need to know." Gwen leaned over him and kissed him, taking his bottom lip between her teeth playfully before pulling away.

She walked to the window and looked out it. Stretching, she ran her fingers through her hair.

Tom's eyes scoured her naked body. Without hesitation, he got out of the bed, walked to her, and turned her to face him. Expertly, he pushed her against the wall, lifting her legs around his waist. "I think you need to know me a little better."

* * *

"Hey sis! I wasn't expecting to see you today," Miguel said as Theresa opened the back door of the house she grew up in and walked into the kitchen.

"I thought I would pop by. I feel like I haven't seen you in forever," she replied as she walked to his chair and rumpled his hair.

"Hey, hey…easy on the hair. I don't wake up looking like this, you know," he teased.

"It takes—_what?_—two seconds to comb it? Poor baby." Theresa took a seat at the small, round table with her brother.

"Want something to eat or drink? Charity's upstairs getting the girls dressed, but I made some pancakes. They're pretty awesome, if I do say so myself."

Theresa shook her head. "Nah. That's okay. I ate after I went running."

Miguel took a sip of orange juice. "You've become quite the athlete. It used to be that Luis and I would poke fun at you because all you'd do was sit with your fashion magazines and diary. Now you could run circles around both of us."

"Running's a good outlet," Theresa replied. "Helps me to clear my mind."

"Doesn't look like it worked this morning," Miguel noted.

"What makes you say that?"

"Just that something is going on. Listen Theresa, I heard about what happened at the Seascape. I'm really sorry. All I have to say is that the Cranes better not cross my path. After everything that has happened, this just proves to me once again that we're better off not having anything to do with them."

Theresa was surprised to hear the change in tone of her brother's voice. He was usually so affable, but he did have a sore spot where the Cranes were concerned. She had the feeling that there was more to it than just Miguel's protectiveness of her.

"Maybe I should ask you what's going on," Theresa responded.

"I just don't like the way they treat people. That's all."

"No, Miguel. You're holding back on me."

He took a deep breath and looked toward the living room. Charity still hadn't come down. Looking back at his sister, he lowered his voice. "Before Kay died, she was helping me with something."

Theresa reached out and took her brother's hand. Kay Bennett's death had hit him extraordinarily hard. They'd been childhood friends, almost inseparable until their late high school years. "What was it, Miguel? What were you working on?"

"Well, you know how industrious Kay was," Miguel began.

Theresa nodded. She remembered quite well. Kay Bennett was one of the smoothest talkers she'd ever known. She could make a lie seem as seamless as silk. They'd had their run-ins, but Theresa never thought she was a bad person…_exactly_.

"She just had a way of finding things out, so when I wanted to know more about Papa, I naturally asked for her help. I can't help but wonder if we were onto something, T. And then she was gone—just like that."

"You really cared for her," Theresa said quietly.

"Yeah. I loved her. I mean, she was my best friend even when I wasn't such a good friend to her."

"Nothing more?"

"What do you mean?"

"I guess I'm asking if anything ever happened between the two of you," she replied.

Miguel heard footsteps coming into the kitchen and looked away from his sister.

"Theresa! What a nice surprise!" Charity exclaimed with genuine excitement in her voice.

Theresa looked at her sister-in-law and managed a smile. As much as she cared for Charity, she had to admit that her timing left much to be desired.

"I hadn't seen Miguel in awhile, so I thought I'd stop by," Theresa offered. "Talking to him on the phone yesterday made me want to come over."

Charity walked to her and patted her arm. "Well, you know that you're welcome here anytime."

Theresa looked back at her brother, his expression still sullen. "I know."

"So what's going on?" Charity asked as she clasped her hands together.

"We're just talking," Miguel replied. "Where are the girls?"

"Upstairs playing with cards."

"They're learning card games?" Theresa asked.

Charity looked to her husband, and he nodded slightly. Looking back at Theresa, she replied, "In a way. One will hold a card that the other can't see. Then the other tries to guess what card it is."

Theresa held her hand over her mouth. "Are you…are you serious? How accurate are they?"

"They both do pretty well, though I think Hope might have a slight edge on Joy," Charity replied.

"They have the gift," Theresa stated.

"The gift," Miguel replied numbly. At times, it didn't seem like such a gift. He knew that his daughter's lives would be complicated and at times polluted by people who didn't understand them. For now, it was easy to protect them. But when they grew older…

Charity nodded. "I never expected it. They're so young. Believe me when I say they keep me on my toes."

"I can only imagine," Theresa replied, her mind starting to drift. She and Chuck had wanted a family so badly. She couldn't help but wonder what their children would have been like. Would they be spirited or calm? Would they have brown eyes or blue?

"Theresa, are you okay?" Charity asked sensing her sister-in-law's change of mood.

"That's what I've been trying to get out of her," Miguel said. "What's going on with you?"

Theresa looked at Miguel and Charity. There were so many things she could say. She could start with the fact that she kept getting strange phone calls from someone claiming to be her fiancé. She could point out the fact that she had duped by Andrew Crane into thinking he was someone he wasn't, or that Ethan kept dropping in and out of her life. The fact that she was fodder for the tabloids also came to mind. Where to start?

"I'm fine, you two. Really."

She hoped she sounded convincing.

"Mommy, mommy, I got them all right!" Hope announced with glee as she ran into the kitchen.

"Oh, that's wonderful, Sweetie. I'm so proud of you!"

It was then that Hope looked and saw her aunt. "_Tia_ _Theresa!"_ she squealed with glee. Hope ran toward Theresa, jumping in her lap.

"Hey there, Squirt," Theresa said holding her niece tightly. "How's my sweetie?"

"Great! I got them all right! Every single one of them! Joy missed some," Hope announced.

"The cards?" Theresa asked.

"Uh huh," Hope replied.

"Hope, where is your sister?" Charity asked.

"Well….she got mad that I got them and she didn't. She didn't want to come down."

"I'll go check on her," Miguel offered.

"I'm glad you're here," Hope said to Theresa. "Want to play a game?"

"Sure. What game?"

Hope just smiled and touched Theresa's face, a strange expression coming over her. "The man is coming," she whispered in Theresa's ear.

"Wh—what did you say?" Theresa asked.

"The man is coming," Hope repeated.

Theresa's heart began to beat wildly. "What man?"

"The one you wonder about."

Theresa's eyes widened.

"Honey, I don't think this is the right time to play this game with Aunt Theresa," Charity said, her voice full of warning.

"But Mommy," Hope protested.

"No buts. Why don't you see if you can help Daddy cheer up your sissy?"

Sighing, Hope slid off her aunt's lap and headed out of the kitchen.

"Theresa, I'm so sorry about that. I should've warned you about her games," Charity said shaking her head.

"It's—it's okay. It's just a game, after all. Right?"

Charity looked away.

* * *

Andrew opened the front door of the Crane Mansion and walked into the living room. He poured himself some orange juice before adding a splash of vodka to the mix.

"It's a little early for that, isn't it?" Ethan asked coming into the room.

Drew rolled his eyes. Just his luck. His sanctimonious brother was part of the liquor patrol that morning. "It's never too early for a screwdriver."

"I didn't think you felt that way," Ethan replied. He remembered how when they were children, Andrew hated the way their father continually downed the alcohol…and how he often started each morning with a screwdriver.

"There's a lot about me that you don't know," Drew replied before taking a swallow of his concoction.

Ethan nodded remembering the horrible scene at the Seascape, how his brother had purposely tried to hurt him. "Yes, I suppose that's true."

Drew set the glass down with a clang. "How does it feel?"

Ethan crossed his arms. "How does what feel?"

"How does it feel to be perfect? I mean—you screw up big time—but you still stand there smelling like a rose."

"Where is this coming from? You know I'm not perfect. _I_ know I'm not perfect. And from everything I can tell, I still have egg on my face."

"Theresa's not going to let this go, you know," Drew pointed out.

"I know," Ethan replied turning away from him.

"So what are you going to do about it?"

Ethan stifled a dry chuckle. "The last person with whom I want to speak about Theresa is you, Andrew. You have this amazing affinity for twisting the truth. So what is your story today? Did you stay with her last night? Oh wait. You've already told that one."

Drew's tone was cocky. "When you came yesterday morning, I never said that I slept with her."

"You implied it."

"Is it my fault that you're so gullible? God, what is it that she sees in you? What is it that everyone sees in you? Mother, Father, Grandfather, our sisters, business associates…I just don't get it."

Ethan spun around. "Is that what this is about? Jealousy? Andrew, we aren't kids anymore. This isn't a competition!"

"I suppose it never was," Drew replied.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"There could be no competition. Not with the Golden Boy," Drew replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I hate it when you call me that," Ethan replied tersely.

"Why? Because it's the truth?"

Ethan took a deep breath. "I'm sorry that you feel as though you didn't get enough attention when we were growing up. But you need to realize that I'm not your enemy. Nothing I have ever done was to spite you."

"Maybe I need to think it was," Drew replied picking up his drink.

"But why?"

"Because then I would have to admit that it wasn't your fault; that the fault lies here," he said pointing to himself "I'd have to admit that _I_ wasn't good enough or clever enough for them."

"Andrew—" Ethan began, his tone softening.

"Ethan, don't. Your grand, noble gestures won't change anything. I am what I am." He looked around him. As he stood in the middle of his family's living room, surrounded by his family's belongings, he realized he didn't feel a connection to any of it. "I don't even know why I'm here or why I even care."

"Because under that glib, arrogant exterior is a decent guy."

"No, Ethan. Haven't you heard? I'm only out for number one. Theresa thought the same thing—that I was a decent person—right before I sank the knife into her back and twisted it. It was the same one I put in your back, by the way."

Ethan had felt himself feeling sorry for his brother until he mentioned Theresa. "Why are you here this morning?"

"I guess I just needed a reminder of who I am," he said looking his brother up and down, "and who I'm not."

With that, Drew headed to the foyer and out of the house.

Ethan watched him go. "What just happened here?"

* * *

Gwen pulled open the door to Serendipity. The boutique had changed since last she was there. Whereas it was then undergoing a renovation, it was now operational and stocked with Theresa's latest designs.

She smiled.

She'd already had a wonderful morning, but now it was time to have a little more fun.


	66. Chapter 66

**Chapter Sixty-Six: "I've Got Your Number"**

"You sure you know what you're doin'?" Chad asked as he looked around what would soon be Ethan's new law office.

"This is what I've always wanted, Chad. Always," Ethan said looking around the main entry with obvious pride.

Chad shook his head. It was apparent to him that his friend had his head in the clouds. "You've always wanted a run-down, rat-infested office?"

"It won't be like that when I'm finished," Ethan assured him. "Just look at these windows. They look out onto the ocean. They're perfect!"

Chad walked toward them, ran his finger along the pane removing a large layer of dust and grime. "Yeah. Perfect."

"Come on. You're supposed to see the possibilities! I'm going to fix this place up as good as new…and I'm going to do it with my own two hands."

"All right. Who are you and what have you done with Ethan Crane?" Chad asked.

"Haha," Ethan replied sarcastically. "You don't think I can work magic on this place?"

"No offense, man, but have you ever actually done any work with carpentry? For that matter, have you ever actually _cleaned_ anything like this?"

"I didn't always have maids, Chad. When I was in school and had an apartment, I had to do things myself. Besides, I'd better get used to a different type of lifestyle. I'm apartment hunting again."

"For real?"

"Well, I can't stay in the mansion forever. I'm almost thirty years old. Don't you think it's time I got a place of my own?"

"Yeah, but that place is so big. It's like the size of ten normal houses."

"It's still too close for comfort," Ethan replied.

"You're serious about all this," Chad said in disbelief.

"Of course I am. Wait a second, aren't you the one who was saying that you knew I would leave the family business to venture on my own? What's all this skepticism?"

"I guess I just never thought you'd be leavin' the lap of luxury to do it," Chad admitted.

"It's time to leave a lot of things behind," Ethan admitted. "It's time for a new beginning and a new perspective, starting now," he said as he threw a rag at Chad, "with a clean office."

Chad deftly caught it and looked at his friend who was starting to clean the dirty windows. Groaning, he muttered, "Why did I agree to this?"

* * *

Theresa lifted her gaze from her bookkeeping when she heard the door of the boutique open. It had already been a busy day with a number of customers coming in, which had made it difficult to get caught up on her books. Still, she was glad to know that people enjoyed her store, and it did her heart good to know that business was booming. She'd even been approached by several financiers about starting a chain of Serendipity boutiques in other locations.

Yet Theresa's good disposition soon changed. A sour taste filled her mouth when she saw Gwen walking to the various racks and fingering the material of the clothing.

_The nerve._

Gwen looked up at Theresa, flashing her a brilliant smile. "My, my, this place certainly has changed. Last time I was here, there was nothing but a mess."

"Forgive me if I don't feel like chatting, Gwen, but what are you doing here?"

"This is a boutique, is it not?" Gwen replied innocently. "I just thought I would stop in and see what you had. I'm looking for something for a wedding."

"Really?" Theresa replied with cool disinterest. "I doubt I have anything for you."

"My goodness! Is this discrimination, Theresa? Are you purposely trying to get rid of me?"

"In a word—yes. You shouldn't be here."

"But isn't my money as good as anyone else's? That is what you've always been after isn't it? The money? It's a marvel that you're still in business if this is the way you treat your customers."

Theresa rolled her eyes.

"Besides," Gwen continued, "I figure that you owe me. I had to make a rather unfortunate trip to the dentist thanks to you. You're lucky that I don't sue you."

"And you're lucky that all I did was knock a few teeth loose," Theresa snapped back.

"Meow! I see the claws are coming out. Tell me, though. Is Ethan really worth it to you, anymore? I mean, it seems pretty obvious that he and I will never be done with each other."

Theresa crossed her arms. "That's not the story I hear. In fact, I have it on good authority that Ethan has filed for divorce."

"But not without another," she paused, trying to choose her words carefully, "_encounter_ with me. Face it, Theresa. I can do things for Ethan that you would never be able to do. Ethan might be sold on this whole notion of courtly love, but when it comes down to it, he'll always come running back to me."

"You know, that's very interesting that you say that, Gwen. I mean—if you have to drug men to get them to sleep with you, what does that say? I've often heard that people who speak of their own prowess are trying to _compensate_ for shortcomings."

Gwen laughed lightly. "Is that what he told you? That I drugged him?" She shook her head, amusement shining in her eyes. "I've heard some whoppers in my time and yes, even told a few, but this—my God—this take the cake. Well, for what Ethan lacks in a backbone, he's most certainly been endowed in other ways."

"This is not a conversation that I'm going to have with you," Theresa replied simply. "I think it would be best for you to leave."

"But I haven't found the perfect dress yet," Gwen insisted. "Maybe you can help me. Truth be told, this wedding isn't exactly going to be my cup of tea. Ethan's best friend is getting married, you know, and we've had our disagreements. Regardless of that, I do want to look my best." She walked to one of the racks and picked up a dark green dress. "What do you think of this one?"

Theresa merely stared at her.

"Yes, I agree," Gwen said. "The color is all wrong." She pulled another dress from the wrack, a pale blue creation with spaghetti straps. "Now this, I love," Gwen said holding it up to her slender body. "Only one problem: do you think it would be possible to let it out around the middle? I think that by the time Whitney and Chad's wedding comes along, I might be showing."

"Get out, and take your cheap bag of tricks along with you," Theresa hissed.

"Oh, poor thing," Gwen said as she touched her flat belly. "You haven't been blessed in that way, yet. You've just had so much tragedy to befall you—especially for someone so young."

"Don't you _even _speak his name!"

"Whose? Chuck's? _Please_. Righteous indignation and crocodile tears went out of style a long time ago. Come on, Theresa. It's just you and me. No audience."

"You heard her, Gwennie. It's time for you to go," a deep voice said from behind her.

Gwen spun around and saw Andrew. "Correction. I guess we _do_ have an audience." She looked back to Theresa. "Should've known one of your knights in shining armor would come along to rescue you. You play the victim so well."

"Well now. Isn't this the bitch calling the kettle black?" Drew remarked nonchalantly. "Poor put upon Gwen. No one understands her. Everything is always someone else's fault. _Please_. Bring out the violins."

"And here I thought whining and justifications were your forte, Andrew."

"You're losing your touch, Gwenie."

"And you're just upset because Theresa here isn't giving you any. She's too busy throwing herself at my husband."

"At least she doesn't have to drug Ethan into wanting to sleep with her."

"At least I'm not waiting around for my brother's scraps."

"You don't have a brother," Drew reminded her.

Theresa groaned. The bickering between the two of them was getting ridiculous. "Why don't the two of you take it outside? I have work to do."

Andrew turned to look at Theresa, but she was already on her way to the back of the store.

Gwen smirked. "So much for your rescue. Cinderella doesn't seem to appreciate it. Some prince."

"Oh, I think Theresa would have handled herself just fine even if I hadn't shown up."

"What was she going to do? Drown me with her tears?"

Drew scratched his chin. "Well, if I thought it would work, I might suggest it to her…"

Gwen rolled her eyes and started toward the door.

Drew laughed to himself. "Boy, oh boy, you've lost that fortitude now, haven't you Gwennie?"

She spun around. "Don't. Call. Me. That. No one calls me that, not even my mother." She pushed open the door and walked outside, stopping on the sidewalk, waiting for the on-coming traffic to clear before crossing the street.

Drew followed her, unable to resist the temptation to bait her further. "Yes, well, speaking of Over-Easy Becky, she must be terribly distraught over the impending dissolution of your nuptials."

"I'd hold your tongue if I were you, Andrew. There is no divorce-yet."

"You must realize the baby trick is the oldest one in the book. I don't think even Ethan will fall for that one. He's so determined to win his way back into Theresa's good graces."

Gwen watched the traffic impatiently. "Sounds like he's not the only one." She turned to Andrew. "You and I could be a formidable force, you know. Instead of working against each other, we should be working together to our mutual benefit."

"Our mutual benefit." He raised an eyebrow. "I see. We play keep away with Ethan and Theresa. You get Ethan; I get Theresa. And, of course, neither of them will know what hit them."

"Very good."

"Let me ask you a question, Gwen. Why do you even want to be with Ethan? I mean, it's obvious to me that you've been playing second fiddle in his life ever since Theresa came onto the scene. Sure, you've managed to keep him with lies. God knows Ethan will believe whatever anyone tells him. Why would you want to be with someone who wants to be with someone else?"

"I could ask you the same about Theresa."

"I asked first."

She took a deep breath. "I've invested half of my life into this relationship, Andrew. All relationships go through difficulties, and that's all this is: a difficulty."

Drew's tone softened. "You never should have married him in the first place. Maybe you would've found someone out there who wouldn't have been pining for someone else. You were a decent girl once upon a time. I mean it. You were truly decent. Who knows? Maybe there is someone out there for you now who will make you the most important aspect of his life, but you have to realize that person is never going to be Ethan."

"Sage advice from Andrew Crane? I think not. Practice what you preach, because you're smart enough to realize that you will _never_ be the most important person to Theresa, either."

_"Theresa!"_

Drew looked around him. Who was that calling Theresa's name?

Gwen groaned. "It never ends. Probably one of Theresa's many clients she _services_."

_"Theresa!"_

Drew was about to say something in retaliation when he saw the man who'd been calling out Theresa's name. He was in his late-twenties, perhaps; tall with dark hair, and he was approaching the two of them.

The man touched Gwen's arm. "Theresa, didn't you hear me calling your name?"

Andrew looked from Gwen to the man, reveling in the shocked expression on his sister-in-law's face. "Theresa?" he questioned.

_This can't be happening!_ Gwen screamed in her mind. She looked at Tom coldly, trying to show no trace of recognition. "You must have me confused with someone else."

Tom's jaw clenched as he looked from Gwen to Drew. "I see. This is how it's going to be."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied briskly. "Now, if you'll excuse me…" With that, she crossed the street, eager to extricate herself from a potentially explosive situation.

Tom turned to Drew. "Is she your wife?"

Drew laughed. "Good heavens, no! That's just—well, that's just laughable. So, tell me. How do you know…_um_…Theresa?"

"What's it to you?" Tom asked, eyeing Drew suspiciously.

"Nothing really. Just wondering why she gave you the brush off."

Tom's defenses began to drop. "I can't figure it out. I know it was her. I know it was! She was so warm earlier today."

"'Theresa,' you say?"

Tom looked at Drew and silently cursed. "That's not her name, is it?"

Drew shook his head. "Nope."

"Then what is it?" the man asked. "Wait. On second thought, don't tell me. She's not even worth the effort." With that, Tom walked away.

Drew watched him go, and rubbed his hands together. "Oh Gwennie, I've got your number."

* * *

Theresa frowned when she saw Andrew Crane come back into the boutique. "I thought you left," she said.

"It's great to see you, too, Beauty," he replied dryly.

"I'm sorry, Drew, but I don't have time to deal with your bruised ego right now," Theresa said with a sigh. "I have to get this paperwork done. I'm expecting a shipment in a little while and need to clear out some space in the back. Plus, I'm supposed to have designs sent to the manufacturers by tomorrow."

"When it rains, it pours," Drew remarked. "Well, since you're so busy, I'll just go."

Theresa watched him start to leave and a wave of guilt washed over her. She ran up to him and took his hand. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have treated you like that. I—I appreciate the way you stood up for me."

He looked down at her small hand touching his own and then into her brown eyes. "You would've handled yourself just fine," he replied.

"Maybe, but I don't know." She pulled away from him and sighed. "I know I shouldn't let her get to me, but she knows just which buttons to push. A long time ago, when I first met her, I didn't think she was a particularly outgoing and friendly person, but I never imagined what a monster she truly is."

"Gwen wasn't always like this, you know."

"I know. She's been hurt, but you know what? If I let a small part of my humanity get eaten away every time I'd been hurt, there would be nothing of me left. Life goes on, Drew, and I'm not going to excuse her behavior."

"Neither am I. Excuses don't work with you. I should know."

Theresa looked away from him, uncomfortable. "I never did ask why you're here today."

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Hhhmmm. Drew Winthrop—make that Andrew Crane—the talker. Funny. I never took you for much of a serious talker. I always saw you as more of a man of action."

Drew chuckled. "I'd say that any action I tried with you would probably get my face slapped and my ass out the door."

Theresa groaned. "I was wondering how long it would take for this side of you to show up. And here I thought we were working on a record."

"Admit it, Theresa. You like me. Oh, you might try to tell yourself that you shouldn't—that I'm bad news, but you like having me around."

"Maybe a little," she admitted. "I do miss being around you. I miss our friendship."

"Our _friendship_? No, Beauty, we were moving way beyond friendship."

"It can't be like that for us right now," Theresa said quietly.

"Why? Because of Ethan?" Drew asked, anger flashing in his eyes.

"Not just because of Ethan. Look, I have so many complications in my life right now—things that you don't even know about. I can't deal with any more complications."

_Rrriiing._

"That's my cell phone," she said as she walked behind the counter.

"Theresa, don't answer that. Let's finish this," Drew insisted.

"I have to. It might be the call I've been waiting for."

She picked up the phone from underneath the counter and pressed the talk button. "Hello?"

_"Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald?"_

"Yes?"

_"This is Gary Livingston from Crane Industries."_

Theresa felt her face grow hot. It _was_ the call she'd been waiting for. "Yes, Mr. Livingston. Any word?"

_"You could say that. Are you sitting, Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald?" Mr. Livingston asked._

"No, but it doesn't matter. Please just tell me."

_"The tape of the voice you brought in—the one with the man claiming to be Chuck Wilson—it's the real thing. After careful analysis, I can say with about 99% certainty that the voice on the tape is the voice of Chuck Wilson."_

"Oh my God," Theresa said as tears formed in her eyes.

Drew watched with great interest as her expression changed from one of curiosity to one of shock.

_"I would like to see you in person to discuss the semantics of this further."_

"Of course. I'll be over as soon as I can."

With that, she pushed the 'end' button.

"What is it?" Drew asked.

Theresa wiped away the tears that had spilled over her cheeks and laughed. "He's alive, Drew! My Chuck is alive!"


	67. Chapter 67

**Chapter Sixty-Seven: "A Few Truths"**

"He's alive, Drew! My Chuck is alive!"

Drew swallowed hard. He hated to see Theresa getting her hopes raised over something that simply couldn't be. "How can you be so sure?"

"It was his voice on the machine. Mr. Livingston said that he was sure! Don't you see? All this time I've spent missing him, but not daring to wish for a miracle…. He's alive!"

"Let's just take this one step at a time. Just because this Mr. Livingston thinks he heard a voice on the machine that sounds like Chuck, that doesn't mean it actually was him."

"But he has an old video of Chuck speaking at a tennis tournament. He was able to make a comparative analysis. It _was _Chuck's voice."

"So from that you conclude that Chuck must be alive? Theresa, anyone could've gotten their hands on tapes of Chuck. He was quite the guy on the tennis circuit and with charities. It wouldn't have been too hard to doctor something."

"Why are you being so negative? Why can't you just be happy for me?"

"I'm not trying to bring you down, Beauty. I'm trying to get you to slow down. Don't jump the gun. I just don't want to see you setting yourself up for a fall."

She shook her head. "Don't you see? I'm not going to fall. With Chuck, it was the real thing. There were never any lies, any manipulations. He was good to me. We were good to each other."

Drew crossed his arms. "Are you sure it's Chuck you really miss?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, her posture becoming defensive.

"I hate to say it, Theresa, but I think you miss the feeling of safety and comfort."

"You have no idea of what I feel or what I think, Andrew Crane. Part of me died the day I thought I lost Chuck! If there's even the remotest chance that he's still out there, I will find him."

"And what? Pick up where you've left off? Hasn't too much happened for that?"

Theresa hadn't really thought about it. All she could think of was the possibility that he was out there somewhere—waiting for her. Wanting her. Complicated? Yes. But what they had….

She shook her head. "I was going to be his wife. I haven't forgotten those feelings. I don't forget so easily."

Drew lifted an eyebrow. "Apparently not, especially considering that you've continued to pine after Ethan all these years. Tell me something. How did Chuck feel about playing second fiddle to a man who didn't have fortitude or—_hell_—the common sense, to follow his heart? How did he feel knowing that the woman he loved would be with another in a heartbeat if she thought she could make it work? Because let me tell you, from where I'm standing it doesn't feel so good."

"First of all, I never 'pined' after Ethan."

"Yeah right."

"Second of all," Theresa continued, ignoring his comment, "Chuck never played second fiddle to Ethan. _Never_. I loved Chuck because of who he was, not because he was some substitute to fill a void in my life."

"But Ethan's always been there, hasn't he? In the back of your mind…."

"Let it go, Andrew. Let it go." She turned away and paused. "Wait a second. What did you mean?"

"Which part?"

"That last part about from where you're standing, it doesn't feel so good?"

"Do I really need to spell it out for you?" he asked.

"You can't mean…" she began as she turned around, looking at him in shock.

"Oh, yes, I can. Though I'd imagined myself saying it in a much more creative way the truth is that I have deep feelings for you, Beauty. God help me, but I'm in love with you."

Theresa stared at him, unsure of what to say. He _loved_ her? At one time, she might have relished those words from him, but so much had changed. _She_ had changed, and she had no idea of what to expect from the future. It looked more uncertain each day.

Finally, she said, "Has anyone ever told you that your timing stinks?"

He chuckled, somewhat amused by her exasperation. "That's not exactly the reaction I was going for. Here," he said, pulling her close, "let me help you find another reason for a good, old-fashioned shocked expression."

Before she knew it, his lips descended upon hers. She'd always enjoyed his kisses, and this was no exception, but her mind screamed in protest. Pushing away from him, her lips swollen from their kisses, she said, "This is not a good idea, for any number of reasons."

His expression hardened. "No, I suppose it's not."

"I'm sorry, Drew. It's just that so much has happened—and so much is hanging over our heads. If I've done anything…"

He lifted his hand to signal her to stop. "Just save it, Beauty. It's not a big deal," he said nonchalantly.

"But you just told me that you love me. That _is_ a big deal."

He crossed his arms, and the lies began to roll off his tongue. "I told you what I thought you wanted to hear."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"We've been skirting this issue for quite some time, don't you think? There's always been this underlying sexual attraction, but you need that umbrella of love to act on it, don't you?"

"Let me get this straight: are you saying that you said you loved me because you thought that would make me jump into bed with you?"

Unaccustomed to rejection from women, Drew swallowed hard, trying to maintain the vestiges of his shredded pride. "Pretty much."

He watched the anger flash through her eyes. "I can't believe you."

"This is who I am, Theresa. It's what Ethan's always said. I'm just a man out for what I can get."

"That's not what I meant. There's more to you than what you're showing now. I know there is! I don't believe this _act_ you're putting on. You're not _that_ selfish."

"Why not? Isn't every word I say that _seems _sincere just a lie? That's what you told me not so long ago, isn't it?"

She reached out and touched his arm, but he pulled away from her. "You push me out of your life, and then you pull me back in. Well, that ends now. 'Fraid you can't have it both ways, Beauty."

Theresa's mind drifted back to the tabloid which detailed the debacle at the restaurant. _Our words of advice to Miss Lopez-Fitzgerald:_ _You can't have it both ways._

Her brown eyes met Drew's turquoise ones. She did care for him, despite everything. He was so much better than he—or anyone else, for that matter—gave him credit. She knew that he was hurt—that he'd been hurt all his life—but she couldn't be the one to help him heal. He deserved a woman who didn't have the baggage she carried, a woman who would make him the most important person in her life.

"You're right, Drew. I can't have it both ways, and I can't be the person you need me to be. I'm sorry."

Drew tried to brush aside the tumult of emotions he was feeling. Trying to keep the mood light, he commented, "It was nice while it lasted."

She nodded. "Yeah. It was."

"So I'll see you around?" Drew asked as he casually started to make his way to the door of her boutique.

"Absolutely," she nodded. "I'll still be here."

"Right," he said as he opened the door. He paused, turning to look at her once again and spoke quietly, "You really did make me want to be a better man, Theresa." With that, he walked out the door.

Theresa fought back the tears that were threatening to spill. "You are a good man, Drew. You just won't allow yourself to believe it."

* * *

Sam Bennett walked along the waterfront, his eyes scanning his surroundings. It wasn't exactly the best side of town, but it was one of the oldest parts. In fact, remnants of Harmony's earliest businesses still remained. Sam saw men hard at work at loading and unloading boxes from one of the shipping freighters. Their grunts and sweat-stained shirts were insistent reminders of the toils of their labor.

He recalled his own days spent upon the fishing boats. He didn't look upon them necessarily with fondness, but he'd certainly learned some of life's lessons during his time in the seas.

Yet he'd also experienced happy times on the seas. He and his family had spent many sunny Sunday afternoons on the waters in the _Amazing Grace_. All of the memories of those times together were fond ones. Grace would pack a picnic lunch, enough to feed an army, and she'd wear his favorite green bathing suit. Noah, with his effervescent personality, always had a girl with him. Jessica was always so eager to learn the finer points of sailing, while Kay always took the opportunity to sunbathe.

_Kay_.

Sam's heart clenched at the thought of his oldest daughter. _We were never there when you needed us, were we?_

It had been nearly five years since the memorial service.

It didn't get easier.

Sam tried to push the thoughts aside as he continued walking. He was surprised when he heard noise coming from one of the office buildings that had been empty for quite some time. Curiosity, as well as his cop instincts, got the better of him.

Taking hold of the knob on the front door, he twisted it. It came open, and he walked inside.

_"Back already, Chad?"_ Sam heard a voice call.

The owner of the voice rounded the corner. Sam was startled to see Ethan Crane.

"What are you doing here?" Sam and Ethan asked simultaneously.

Sam looked the younger man over. He was dressed in jeans and a dirty t-shirt and wore work gloves. Sweat glistened on his forehead.

It was shocking to Sam that Ethan Crane even _owned_ a pair of blue jeans.

"You first," Ethan insisted with a frown on his face. Sam Bennett wasn't on his list of favorite people. He knew that Theresa had hoped that the two of them would be able to forge some kind of understanding, but Ethan doubted it would ever happen. Some things just were not mean to be.

"I heard a noise coming from in here. Last time I'd heard, this place hadn't been sold, so I thought I would investigate."

"Well it _has_ been sold—to me."

"Really?" Sam asked as his eyebrows shot up. He looked around him at the still messy lobby. "This doesn't look like one of your usual haunts."

"I thought you came to investigate, not give one of your commentaries," Ethan said as he stripped off the work gloves.

Sam shook his head. "This, I don't need, Crane." He turned to leave.

"Wait, Chief Bennett."

Sam turned around, his jaw set. "What now? Couldn't let the opportunity pass without telling me how 'incompetent' I am?"

Ethan took a deep breath. "Actually, I wanted to thank you."

"What? Why?"

"For checking into what you heard. I'm glad to know that this area is well-patrolled."

Sam's eyes widened. "You just came dangerously close to giving a compliment."

"Don't get used to it," Ethan said with a hint of amusement in his voice. "We have a grudge to keep holding onto."

Sam studied the younger man, trying to decipher his Ethan's expression. Was Ethan Crane actually _joking_ with him?

He crossed his arms. "Mind if I ask you a question?"

"I suppose that would depend on what it is."

"Of all the prime locations and fancy office spaces Harmony, why would you choose this location? And what exactly do you need it for anyway? Doesn't Crane Industries already provide a rather lavish working environment?"

"I thought you said 'a' question, not three."

"Take your pick."

"You'll find out soon enough anyway, so I'll go ahead and tell you. I'm opening a private practice. It'll mostly be _pro bono_ work, I assume. As for this location, I thought it would make me more accessible to my clientele."

"Pigs _can_ sprout wings," Sam muttered in a low voice.

"What was that?"

"I—I'm surprised. How will you find the time to do this? Your responsibilities at Crane Industries must keep you busy."

"They did," Ethan said as he picked up a bottle of water and took a drink. "That's why I resigned my position. I want to be able to give the people who need my help my full attention."

Sam could have been knocked over with a feather. Was it possible that this young man that he'd always assumed was terribly spoiled and was just like his father was, in fact, halfway decent?

"I'm glad," Sam said with sincerity. "I'm sure you'll be able to really do some good things."

For the first time since they'd met nearly seven years ago, Ethan saw respect in Sam Bennett's eyes, and an unexpected feeling overcame him.

Ethan was pleased.

* * *

"I expected that you'd be here earlier, Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald," Gary Livingston admonished as he opened the door to his office and allowed Theresa to walk inside, "especially in light of what I told you over the phone."

Theresa frowned. She wasn't used to being treated as a child. "I have responsibilities," she reminded him.

"Yes, yes. Forgive my forwardness," Mr. Livingston said as he shifted to a more affable demeanor. "Please have a seat."

Theresa sat in the chair across from the man's desk and watched as he scurried about the office. He retrieved her answering machine, as well as her video tape of Chuck.

"I believe these belong to you," he said as he handed them to her.

"Yes, thank you."

Mr. Livingston finally took a seat behind his desk. Leaning forward with his hands folded on his desk, he began to speak, "I asked you to come because I wanted to speak to you about more specific details in regards to the audio."

"What can you tell me?"

"First of all, I will repeat what I've already said. Reasonable doubt notwithstanding, I am convinced that is the voice of Chuck Wilson on your answering machine."

"What do you mean by 'reasonable doubt notwithstanding'?"

"Well, Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald, either Chuck Wilson is speaking to you from beyond the grave, or he is out there somewhere alive. I'm no mortician; nor am a detective, but it strikes me as odd that these calls should come."

"But you _did_ say it was Chuck's voice?"

"Yes, it is Chuck's voice."

Theresa let out a breath she hadn't even realized she had been holding. "Is there any evidence of tampering? I mean, did someone paste the words together from various sources, such as the charity tennis tournaments?"

"If it _had_ been pulled from different sources, there would be some discrepancy in the sound quality that would undoubtedly have shown up under closer examination of the sound bytes. I found no evidence of such tampering."

"It's him," she whispered.

"It would seem so."

Theresa leaned forward in her chair slightly, both unnerved and hope-filled by the man's words. "Um, Mr. Livingston, I spoke the telephone company about tracing the call. They were unable to get a clear trace. Were you able to detect any unusual background noises on the tape that might give some clue about where the call came from?"

He shook his head. "Wherever he made the call from, it was a quiet environment."

"There was nothing?"

"No, nothing."

She leaned back in her chair.

"This is so frustrating."

Mr. Livingston nodded. "I can only imagine. Have you spoken to Ethan Crane about this?"

"Why do you ask?" Theresa asked defensively.

"No reason in particular. I just thought that he might want to know considering your _special_ relationship with him. I don't envy your situation."

His words made Theresa uneasy on many levels. She didn't like the idea of this virtual stranger prying into her personal life. Nor did she know what to do with those lingering feelings for Ethan when it looked like a stronger possibility that Chuck might somehow come back into her life.

But where had Chuck been all this time?

Why did he continue to let people believe he was dead for over a year?

It just didn't make any sense!

"Is there anything else, Mr. Livingston?" Theresa asked crisply.

"Nothing that I can think of. If you have further questions…"

"I'll know where to reach you."

Gary Livingston watched as Theresa walked past the elevator and opened the door to the stairwell. Shaking his head, he mused, "It's a long way down, Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald. Ten flights."

He closed the door and walked back to his desk. Picking up the phone, he quickly dialed a number.

_"What the hell took so long?" _the voice on the other end asked.

"Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald took her precious time getting here," Gary replied. "She was a little snippy about it, too."

_"I'm sure you'll survive."_

"Oh, I'll be doing more than surviving with that generous check you deposited into my bank account. I can't tell you enough how grateful—"

_"Save the simpering gratitude for someone who cares. All I want to know is if it worked."_

"She bought it all right. Hook, line, and sinker."

_"She better."_

"Oh, she did. She's already chopping at the bits, anticipating the return of her beloved and dearly departed fiancé. I even expressed some disbelief, which I think only made her cling to her fantasies even more."

_"Did you ask her about Ethan?"_

"As a matter of fact, I did. She didn't want to open up, but I did get the impression that they've had a falling out. He's not hassling me like he was last time."

_"Good. That means we're ready."_

"For what? Wasn't placing the idea in her head enough?"

_"Perhaps it would have been, but you certainly didn't help matters by refusing to help at first. The very fact that I had to go through the ordeal of arranging another phone call did not please me in the least. You damaged what should have been a much simpler operation."_

Gary shuddered. He didn't feel entirely comfortable with what he'd done, but what choice did he have? "I've already said everything I'm going to say about my initial decision."

_"Either way, I'm working with what I have now, and I think this way has something of a more delicious edge to it."_

Gary couldn't resist. "So what's next?"

_"That's for me to know…and for Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald to find out."_


	68. Chapter 68

**A/N - **Thanks so much for sticking this one out. It's been a long story, and it isn't over yet, but things will be wrapping up in a few chapters. 

* * *

**Chapter Sixty-Eight: "A New Life"**

"Have you heard anything from the caller?" Miguel asked as he burst through the doors of Serendipity. Concern shone on his features. He knew his sister was convinced that it was Chuck, but he had his doubts.

Theresa looked up from her sketch and shook her head.

"When you phoned, I was so certain….," Miguel said with a sigh. "How are you holding up?" he asked as he walked to where Theresa sat behind the counter and gave her a hug.

"I'm fine, Miguel. Really, I am," Theresa said as she avoided meeting her brother's gaze.

"Then why don't you sound very convincing?" he asked.

She groaned at his protectiveness. "I know you worry about me, but I'm fine. Promise."

"How do you do it?" Miguel asked, disbelief showing on his features.

"What?"

"Keep going. Business as usual."

Theresa wasn't sure how to answer him. She didn't think she was particularly strong. Going on—it wasn't an option. It wasn't a choice. It just _was_.

Four weeks had passed since she'd spoken to Mr. Livingston, and it had been over four weeks since she'd received a phone call from Chuck. It was as if everything was moving in slow motion. Each time the phone rang, each time she heard someone call her name, she would imagine it was him.

At night, when she went to sleep, her niece's words rang in her ears.

_The man is coming._

Surely Hope meant Chuck…._didn't she_? Who else could it be?

But why hadn't he contacted her again? For that matter, why had he stayed away for so long? It just didn't make any sense.

She was filled with so many conflicting emotions. Longing, confusion, fear, anticipation, and dread were in danger of consuming her—as were emotions she didn't even know how to describe. Yet she knew she couldn't lose her focus.

"Life must go on. I can't afford to let myself get lost in this, Miguel. I can't. It would be too easy. Just too easy."

Miguel lifted his sister's chin so that their eyes met. "You don't have to be brave for me, T. I've been there before. Remember?"

She nodded slowly, seeing his eyes darken at the memory. "Yeah. I remember. But this—this is different, Miguel."

"It might be different, but the feelings are the same. The doubt, the confusion. Not understanding why things happen the way they do."

"You don't think Chuck could be alive, do you?" she whispered.

Miguel took a deep breath. "I've seen enough crazy things in my life to never say never, but Theresa, you have to admit that the whole thing is fishy."

She shook her head. "No, Miguel. No! Mr. Livingston was _certain_ that it was Chuck's voice and that there was no tampering. I specifically asked him if it was possible that somehow his words were pieced together. He assured me that there was no way. I trust his judgment. After all, he's been a technology specialist for many years now."

"He's also worked for Crane Industries for many years, hasn't he?"

"What does one have to do with the other?"

"T, I don't trust the Cranes or _anyone_ associated with them," Miguel said with obvious disdain.

Theresa swallowed hard. Miguel was usually so good-natured. It was rare to see him speak with such force. "You're starting to sound like Luis," she pointed out.

"You could say much worse things to me."

"But you remember how we used to get so exasperated by all his suspicions and finger-pointing."

Miguel shook his head in frustration. "Luis had reason to suspect them, T. Alistair and Julian tried everything they could to keep Sheridan and him apart. What you don't realize because you weren't here is that they almost succeeded. I suppose the Cranes finally solved their problem by disowning Sheridan for all practical purposes. They barely tolerate her now, and they most certainly don't let Luis get close enough to do much in the way of uncovering their secrets."

Theresa sighed. "I'll admit that they were underhanded when it came to Luis and Sheridan, but what does that have to do with anything?"

Miguel took a deep breath, uncertain of how much to tell his sister. He'd kept so much inside for almost as long as he could remember—ever since everything changed. But if he could make her realize the seriousness of the situation, perhaps it would be worth it.

Finally he spoke, "Before she died, Kay and I were so close to uncovering the truth about Papa. I know we were!" His voice softened as he continued, "The Cranes were involved, but before we could prove anything, Kay was gone."

Theresa reached out and took Miguel's hand. She felt shame when she saw the pain he still endured. How much worse must it have been when it first happened? She'd been in New York when Miguel lost his best friend and had not come back for the memorial service, both unwilling and unable to deal with facing everyone again—especially Ethan.

"Theresa, we were onto something. Kay knew it. I knew it. Alistair and Julian knew it."

The look on Miguel's face, the tone of his voice, made Theresa's heart start to pound. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"It wasn't an accident, T. I was never able to prove it. Neither was Sam or Luis, but in my gut, I know it wasn't an accident. It was planned."

"But Miguel, if somehow Alistair or Julian was responsible, why kill Kay? Why not kill both of you?"

"I'm convinced they tried at one time. Remember when she and I were trapped in the warehouse?"

"Do I ever! When Mama called and told me about it, she was in an absolute frenzy, talking a mile a minute."

"It wasn't an 'accident' that we were locked in there, and it sure as hell wasn't an 'accident' that a fire happened to start."

Theresa's mind was racing, trying to take in everything her brother was telling her. "But didn't the fire inspector say that it was because of faulty wiring? That you and Kay were just in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

"Yeah, he did. He also happens to be the same fire inspector who became mayor two years later with the full backing of Julian Crane. Too many 'accidents' were going on, if you ask me."

Miguel looked away from his sister. He still remembered the suffocating, dense smoke and the intense heat. They'd both been lucky that night, but Kay's luck hadn't held out for much longer. If only he wouldn't have involved her in the first place! She'd still be there, still be by his side.

"The night she died, she called me. She was so excited, T. She said that she'd found something that would prove once and for all what had happened to Papa—and then she was gone. Just like that, the blink of an eye. Whatever evidence she had is gone, too. Without that evidence, I suppose I wasn't much of a threat anymore. My life was bought with Kay's."

"Don't. Say. That. You aren't responsible. You aren't!"

"But if I—"

"No! Don't do this to yourself! It doesn't do any good."

"And clinging to the idea that Chuck is still alive doesn't do you any good," he shot back.

"Miguel, if there was the slightest chance that she was still alive, you would want to pursue it, wouldn't you?"

"But she's not, Theresa! She's not! As much as I might want it, as much I might miss her, as much as I might want to make things right between us again, she's not coming back! That's why I hate to see you in knots over this crazy idea that Chuck Wilson is out there somewhere!"

"But I did get a call, Miguel. I have his voice on tape! I'm not imagining this! It's not one of my fantasies or daydreams!"

"But I can't shake the feeling that somehow this isn't legit. That somehow this Mr. Livingston isn't legit. Think about it, Theresa. Though you try to move on, you're in a holding pattern. Have you seen Ethan?"

Theresa's furrowed her brows. "Not for a few weeks. Why?"

"I can just imagine that old man Alistair was in a tizzy when he heard that Ethan was divorcing Gwen and that he'd left the company. Probably chalked it up to your influence. What better way to get Ethan out of your sphere of influence than by distracting you with something that he thinks you want more than anything else in the world…. Chuck Wilson."

"Ethan and I aren't going to be together, regardless of whether Chuck is or isn't in the picture. So what does any of it matter?"

"But this way they get their insurance policy without having another body on their hands. They know that if you think your fiancé is still alive, you aren't going to involve yourself with Ethan."

Theresa lifted her hands to her head and groaned. "This is probably one of the most ridiculous conversations I've had in a long time! I know that Alistair and Julian Crane are not the nicest men, but….."

Miguel interrupted her. "Theresa, haven't you heard anything I've told you? They are responsible for my Kay's death!"

Theresa's eyes widened when she heard her brother speak. _My Kay_. It was then that she realized that there was so much more that he wasn't telling her.

"Kay was more than a friend to you, wasn't she?"

Miguel hesitated, uncertain about how he should answer his sister. He felt a wave of relief wash over him when her phone rang. "You'd better get that."

Theresa narrowed her eyes, knowing that Miguel was trying to worm out of answering her question. Yet the phone call might be important—it might even be Chuck.

Keeping her eyes on her brother, she picked up the phone. "Serendipity. This is Theresa. May I help you?"

_"Theresa, it's Charity. Luis just called here. He's taken Sheridan to the hospital. She's gone into labor."_

"Really? My goodness!"

_"I'm trying to find Miguel. Do you know where he might be?"_

"He's here with me."

_"If you could just tell him for me, that would be great. I know that Luis would really appreciate having you and Miguel at the hospital."_

"Absolutely. We're on our way," Theresa said hurriedly as she hanged up the phone.

"Who was that?" Miguel asked.

"Charity. She said that Sheridan's having the baby."

"We'd better get over to the hospital," he said.

Theresa nodded, halfway relieved, halfway disappointed that the conversation was over.

* * *

_"You've really done it now, Julian," _Alistair Crane's voice said, belying his disgust with his son.

Julian looked up at the ceiling, rolling his eyes.

_"Don't roll your eyes at me. You can't afford such gestures."_

Julian looked around the study trying to detect signs of cameras. How could his father know?

"Father, I—," Julian began.

_"Save it and just listen. You might learn something—for once. You are a disgrace, Julian. An absolute disgrace. What was all that talk about putting Ethan back into his place?"_

"I tried, Father. I truly did. The boy just has other ideas," Julian replied with a nervous chuckle.

_"'The boy has other ideas.' What kind of lame excuse is that? Last time I checked, Ethan did not have a choice in the matter."_

"Try telling that to Ethan," Julian muttered. "You know he's always had his own ideas about how things should be done."

_"It's that Lopez-Fitzgerald girl's fault. Damn that family! They've always been a thorn in our sides."_

"But as far as I know, Ethan hasn't even seen her in a couple of weeks. No, Father, he's doing this all on his own. I even threatened to cut him off. It did no good."

_"This does present a problem. Perhaps you should try a more persuasive method?"_

"What's that? Threatening personal safety? I'm not going to hurt my own son."

_"You've gone soft on me. If Ethan thinks he's going to escape his responsibilities…"_

"Not exactly. I've always believed in working smarter, not harder. Perhaps what we need is a backup plan."

_"I'm listening."_

"What about Andrew?"

The sound of Alistair's harsh laugh coming from the speakerphone startled Julian.

"What's so funny, Father?"

_"I think I know where you're going with this, and it isn't going to happen, Julian. That boy has done nothing but screw up all his life. And you want to entrust him with the family's interests? Please."_

"Andrew has a sharp mind, Father….."

_"Perhaps if he weren't so distracted by his libido."_

"….and he doesn't have Ethan's strict sense of morality. Andrew is more than willing to 'bend the rules,' as it were, when the occasion calls for it."

_"This isn't open for discussion. Ethan has been groomed all his life for this. I'm not willing to let that go. Besides, Ethan's naivete lends us a certain credibility that we otherwise might not have. He'll be President someday so long as we don't allow him to get distracted and veer off course as he is now. _

_"No, we've invested too much time and effort into Ethan. Besides, he's sitting on a mine field. If he puts it together…"_

"Yes, Father, I know."

_"The Lopez-Fitzgeralds cannot be allowed to catch wind of this. I've already taken measures against Luis and Sheridan, cutting her from the family. And then there's Miguel Lopez-Fitzgerald who couldn't think his way out of a paper bag. No challenge there. But if Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald is able to continue to have an influence over Ethan, it could spell disaster."_

"But I already told you, Father, that they haven't seen in each other in weeks."

_"But they're about to see each other. Sheridan is having her baby."_

"I didn't realize," Julian replied, his tone softening.

_"Don't tell me you're getting all sentimental over her half-breed child with Lopez-Fitzgerald. It's a disgrace! We could've used her in a family alliance if not for her dalliance with that man. And now that she's having his child, she's useless to us."_

"But Father, that is your grandchild."

_"Oh posh, Julian. That child will never be a Crane. How disappointing that your mother's foolishness was inherited by my only son. Now listen carefully. Theresa and Miguel are on their way to the hospital. When Theresa sees Ethan isn't there, she'll call him to make sure he knows, and he'll come running."_

"And just how am I supposed to stop that?"

_"You don't have to stop it. I have something else in mind. It's time for phase two." _

* * *

Theresa and Miguel sat wordlessly in one of the waiting areas in the maternity ward. Finally Miguel spoke. "Luis is not going to be happy when he sees Ethan here."

Theresa sighed. "But Sheridan would be disappointed if he wasn't. I couldn't just _not_ tell him."

"Your involvement with him is going to get you into trouble," Miguel said.

"Look, he's on his way. There's no use in discussing this further," Theresa said, impatience getting the best of her.

Miguel shook his head, a sour disposition on his face. Yet Theresa noticed that his countenance changed when he saw his daughters run up to him. Charity wasn't far behind.

"Daddy! Daddy!" they squealed.

"Miguel, the girls haven't eaten yet," Charity said, her voice tinged with fatigue. "Would you come with us to the cafeteria? I could use the help."

He looked back at Theresa who nodded. "It will probably be awhile. Go ahead."

"Don't you want to come with us?"

"No, that's okay. I'll be fine."

Watching them leave, Theresa stood and walked around the corner. Stopping in front of the large plastic window that looked into the nursery, Theresa smiled when she saw the newborns. There were five in the nursery: two boys and three girls.

One baby in particular caught her attention. The others were asleep, but not this one. Her eyes focused on the name tag at the end of the child's bassinet. Henry James. Seven pounds, eight ounces.

Henry was alert, his eyes open, his tiny body making the slightest movements. His skin was rosy, the rising and falling of his little chest rapid. Theresa could still see the slightest hint of ink on one of his little toes.

Her heart clenched. Very soon Luis and Sheridan would have their own child. She was happy for them, so very happy. After all, they'd been through so much heartache, but nothing could come between them now.

Yet that didn't eradicate the regrets she felt. The might-have-beens were starting to get to her. She might've been holding her own child—hers and Chuck's—if not for the wreck. But if he was alive, why hadn't he contacted her before now? What if Miguel was right? What if it was all a terrible ruse?

Slowly, she walked back to where she'd been sitting before and took a seat. Leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, she covered her face. Rubbing her eyes, willing the tears of frustration to go away.

"Theresa?"

She looked up and saw Ethan's clear blue eyes looking down at her. Hastily, she wiped away her tears.

He knelt in front of her chair, now looking at her at eye-level. Reaching out for her, he touched her face. "What is it? Is it the baby? Has something happened?"

She shook her head. "No, as far as I know, everything is fine. Luis is in the delivery room with Sheridan right now. But these things can take a long time."

"Thank God," he said, relief evident in his expression.

"I didn't mean to scare you," she said quietly as she looked away from him.

"Resa, what's wrong?"

She tried to shake the tumult of emotions she was feeling. "Nothing," she said managing a small smile. "Just a girl thing, I guess. Letting my emotions run away from me."

"I think I understand. Gwen used to get—" his voice trailed off. "I'm sorry, Theresa."

"Don't be. I know that you and she were together for a long time. I might not like it, but that's the way things are."

Ethan took the seat next to her. "Things aren't like that anymore," he reminded her.

"No, I guess they're not."

Ethan looked toward a set of double doors across the small lobby that led to the delivery rooms. Looking back at Theresa, he said, "Thanks for calling me."

"It was nothing. I knew Sheridan would want you here, and that you'd want to be here for her."

"Still, it was nice to hear your voice," he said quietly.

"It was nice to hear yours, too. Um, I see that your eye looks better."

Ethan smiled. "Who would've known you pack such a wallop?"

"Guess that will teach you to sneak up on a girl," she said playfully.

"Oh, yes, ma'am. I've learned my lesson," Ethan said in his best Elvis imitation.

Theresa laughed, amazed at how he could make her feel so much better. "I'm glad you're here, Ethan."

She reached down and took his hand, intertwining her fingers with his. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.

His blue eyes locked onto her brown ones. "Me, too, Resa."

She drew in a breath, startled by the intensity of his gaze and her own reaction to him.

"I hear you've been working on your new office yourself," she said as nonchalantly as she could muster.

"Chad's been helping, along with a whole slew of how-to books. For everything I get right, I must get two things wrong and then have to backtrack."

"You mean they didn't offer trades classes at your boarding school? How shocking!" she said with mock disbelief.

"Yes, well, I've been meaning to make up for the deficiencies in my education starting with that," he replied, playing along.

"In all seriousness, I'm glad you're doing this. I know it must have been a difficult decision to leave Crane Industries."

Ethan nodded. "Father and Grandfather were disappointed, and I am sorry for that, but I couldn't go on doing something so meaningless. Not when I know that I could do so much more. You're actually the one who helped me to realize that."

"Me?"

"Weren't you the one who was always telling me that life isn't about responsibilities and expectations, but about all the possibilities?" He paused, looking at her intently. "I spent a long time denying what I really want, but I'm not going to do that anymore."

She licked her lips, her heart pounding. "And just what do you want, Mr. Crane?"

He leaned over, whispering in her ear, "I want you."

Her eyes widened at his declaration.

Ethan pulled away from her. "I know that it isn't what you want to hear, but I'm not giving up on us. I love you too much for that."

But it was what she'd wanted to hear. She'd spent the past month away from him, wondering about him. Wondering if he still thought of her, if he still cared for her. She'd hated herself for it, but Ethan was never far from her mind or her heart.

"Ethan…..," she began.

"It's a girl!" Luis called out as he burst through the double doors.

Theresa jumped up at seeing her brother's glee and threw her arms around his neck. "That's wonderful, Luis! Oh, congratulations!"

"How's Sheridan?" Ethan asked, standing also and approaching the duo.

"She's great. Tired, of course, but she was so strong," Luis said with obvious pride.

"Well….give us details about the baby! Details, details!"

"Her name is Katherine Pilar, named after our mothers. She has a head full of dark hair, and quite a set of lungs," Luis said, laughter in his voice. "She weighs seven pounds."

"Pilar is going to be so thrilled," Ethan said standing behind Theresa and resting his hands on her shoulders.

Luis eyed Sheridan's nephew suspiciously. "Yeah," he said, his eyes darkening. "She will be. Now, do you mind telling me what's going on out here?"

Theresa rolled her eyes. "Luis, your wife just had a baby girl. Save your energy for them."

"You're right, but we'll continue this conversation later."

"Yes, Daddy," Theresa said.

Luis smiled. "'Daddy.' I could get used to that."

"Will the baby be in the nursery soon?" Theresa asked. "I can hardly wait to see her!"

"In a few minutes."

"What about Sheridan? Will she be allowed visitors soon?"

Luis frowned at Ethan. His patience was wearing thin where Crane was concerned, but for Sheridan, he would do anything. "In about another hour. She's in the recovery room right now. I'd probably better get back to her."

Theresa nodded. "Luis, I'm so happy for the two of you. You're going to be a wonderful father."

"Thanks, Sis. See you in a few."

Theresa turned and looked at Ethan. "This is amazing!"

"Congratulations, Aunt Theresa," Ethan said.

"Thank you. I'd better go and find Miguel."

* * *

Ethan nodded and watched as she walked past the elevator and opted for the stairs instead. He couldn't help but smile as he watched her.

She was the most remarkable woman he'd ever known.

Turning, he walked around the corner, gazing into the nursery. _Someday Theresa is going to make a wonderful mother, _he thought as he watched the babies sleeping.

He closed his eyes, and he could almost picture it. A child with Theresa's eyes, her smile, her vivacious spirit. He heard footsteps behind him. Thinking it was Theresa, he opened his eyes and turned.

"I thought I might find you here," Gwen said.

"What do you want?" Ethan asked, unable to contain his impatience with her.

"A couple of things, actually," Gwen replied as she moved next to him.

She looked through the window, and her hand moved to her abdomen. It still hadn't sunk in.

"You know, I'm really not in the mood," he said as he began to walk away.

"Wait, Ethan. I think you'll want to hear what I have to say," she replied.

"I can't imagine that I'd be interested in anything you have to say."

Gwen looked at him. "Then expand your imagination. We've known each other a long time, Ethan. You owe me this."

He crossed his arms.

"I was here for an appointment today when Julian called me. He thought I might want to know that Sheridan was in labor. Have you heard anything? Is she okay?"

"She's fine. She had a girl, Katherine Pilar. Luis is quite proud."

"I know she and I aren't on the best of terms right now, but I did want to be here for Sheridan. We used to talk quite a bit about having children. I know she was always frightened because her mother never did recover completely after having her," Gwen said, her gaze returning to the sleeping babies.

"Sheridan is strong," Ethan said.

Gwen nodded. "She certainly is. I hope I'll be as strong as she is when the time comes."

Her words were cryptic, catching Ethan's attention. "What did you mean by that, Gwen?"

"It actually has to do with the second reason I came here to see you. I mentioned that I was here for an appointment. It was an appointment with my ob/gyn. I suspected this was true, but I had to make certain. Now I know. We're going to have a baby, Ethan."


	69. Chapter 69

**Chapter Sixty-Nine: "Unbelievable"**

Gwen's words hit Ethan like a ton of bricks.

She was having a baby? Their baby? Ethan always imagined that he would be elated at hearing news that he was to be a father, but he couldn't feel anything but disgust toward Gwen. What she'd done—drugging him, seducing him—it was unconscionable! And now she was telling them that she was pregnant from that night? It was too much. It was unbelievable.

"Aren't you going to say anything? What are you thinking?" Gwen asked, determined to meet her husband's gaze.

"Believe me when I tell you that you don't want to know what I'm thinking right now, Gwen," he hissed as he began to walk away from her.

Gwen pursued him, grabbing onto his arm. "Don't walk away from me! Not when I've told you something so monumental!"

He jerked away from her grasp. "Somehow your 'monumental' announcement doesn't seem so monumental. For the last six years, all you've done is lie to me. _Over_ and _over_ and _over._ Even if you are pregnant—and that's a big if—how can you expect me to embrace this? Your methods disgust me. _You_ disgust me."

Gwen's eyes narrowed. "You didn't think I was 'disgusting' our last night together. As I recall, you enjoyed yourself quite a bit. Over and over."

"Only because you drugged me, and I was dreaming of Theresa!" Ethan spat out. "I would never have touched you otherwise."

"You might not want to admit it, but the sex has always been good for us. Always." She squared her shoulders, holding her head high. "My doctor's name is Dr. Sorenson. Go and speak with him if you must, but he'll tell you the same thing I have. I _am_ pregnant!"

"No!" came a soft cry.

Ethan spun around and saw Theresa standing there, tears pooling in her eyes.

"Oh God. Theresa…"

The look of absolute pain on her face made Ethan's own heart sink. He was continually hurting her. His actions, his words.

To take away that pain, he would've done anything. But what could he do? What was there _to_ do?

Theresa felt her throat closing, a sob forming.

_No_. She wouldn't give either of them the satisfaction.

But how it hurt! Ethan, Gwen, and a child…..Ethan would always be tied to her. _Always_.

He would never deny love to his child, and Gwen would use that.

"Yes, Theresa. Congratulations are in order. Ethan and I are going to be parents. Looks like I beat you to the punch."

Ethan was incensed. "Beat her to the punch? _Beat her to the punch?_ Unlike you, Theresa doesn't use her body to try to trap men!"

"Trap?"

"Yes, trap! What you've done, Gwen…..God, I don't even have the words to express to you what I think."

Gwen looked toward Theresa who stood in a numb shock. "How does it feel to be a saint, Theresa?" she asked.

Theresa spoke, willing the shakiness to leave her voice. "I wouldn't know, Gwen. But at least I'll never have to know what it feels like to be you."

"Isn't that what you've wanted, though, Theresa? To be like me? After all, you've certainly wanted everything that I have."

"Mama always said to pick and choose my battles. This isn't a battle I'm going to have with you. Not here, not now. Excuse me."

Theresa started to walk toward the stairwell.

"Theresa, wait!" Ethan called after her.

Theresa paused and turned to him. "Please tell Luis that I'm not feeling well but that I'll be back later to see Sheridan and the baby."

Ethan's eyes pleaded with her. "We need to talk."

"I—I can't talk to you right now, Ethan. I just can't." With that, she opened the door that led to the stairs and began to make her way down.

* * *

Gwen watched as Ethan stood motionless.

_That's right, Theresa. Go and lick your wounds_, Gwen thought. _In the meantime, I'll be picking up where I left off._

Gwen walked closer to Ethan and stood behind him. "We have some decisions to make, Ethan."

"Not now, Gwen."

"But—," she protested.

"Not now!"

"This matter isn't going to go away," she stated simply.

"Dr. Sorenson, you say?" Ethan questioned.

"You mean you're actually going to track down my doctor and question him?" Gwen asked with disbelief.

"It was your suggestion," Ethan shot back. "Unless you have something you want to tell me now and save me the trouble."

"I stand by what I said, Ethan. The sooner you accept the fact that we're having a baby, the better. Stress isn't good for pregnant women. Having a healthy first trimester is critical."

"And the sooner you accept that your little games are not going to work anymore, the better."

Gwen touched her stomach. "This is not a game, Ethan. This child growing inside of me is part of you and part of me. We created this child together."

He said nothing, but headed down the hall to find Dr. Sorenson.

_You'll get used to the idea, Ethan. And when you do, you'll want this baby as much as I do. _

"And we'll be a package deal," she said aloud.

* * *

Theresa walked out of the doors of the hospital and looked up at the sky. It was deceptively blue, as though everything was right with the world, but everything wasn't. Would anything ever be right again?

_It can't be. It can't be._

But it was.

"Theresa?"

Hearing her name, she quickly wiped away her tears. She looked at the person who'd called her name. He stood tall next to her, concern showing in his turquoise eyes.

"Hi, Andrew. Sorry to rush off, but I really have to go."

"Please wait," he said. "Is something wrong? Has something happened with Sheridan or the baby?"

"No, they're fine. Everything's fine."

"Never lie to a liar, Beauty. Look, I know that I might not be the person you most want to confide in, but I've been told that I actually have a very good set of ears."

"I know you do, Drew. Lord knows I've cried on your shoulder enough times, but this is something I have to deal with on my own." She took his hand and squeezed it. "Thank you."

With that, she continued down the sidewalk toward the parking lot.

Drew watched her go, hating that she took a piece of his heart with her.

_When did I get to be so damn sentimental? _he wondered.

Continuing into the hospital, he made his way to the elevator and to the maternity ward. When he reached the waiting area, he saw Theresa's younger brother and his family were there. He was startled by how much the little girls with him looked like Theresa. They had the same dark hair and eyes.

One of the little girls turned around and looked at him. "You need to tell them," she announced.

Drew furrowed his brows. Was the girl talking to him?

He looked behind himself to see if someone else was there.

_No one._

The little girl laughed as she went back to playing with her sister. Her laughter had a melodic quality, but Drew had the impression that she wasn't like other children.

"Have you talked to your sister?" Drew asked Miguel.

Miguel eyed the new arrival suspiciously and said nothing.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Andrew Crane."

"I know who you are," Miguel said tersely.

"Miguel." Charity's tone was one of warning.

He looked back at his wife. He didn't feel like being polite to any of the Cranes, let alone this man who had lied to and used his sister.

"Obviously," Drew muttered.

Miguel glared at him, angered by his unbelievable nerve. "I'm certainly not going to talk to _you_ about my sister."

"That's your prerogative. I just ran into her a few minutes ago. She seemed rather upset."

"Theresa was upset? What did you do to her, Crane?" Miguel asked standing.

"Not in front of the children, Miguel," Charity hissed.

Drew rolled his eyes. "Right. It's naturally my fault."

"If the shoe fits."

"I didn't say anything to upset her. She was already upset," Drew said as he saw Ethan coming down the hall. "But now I think I know why."

Miguel turned and saw Ethan coming, as well.

Ethan came to a stop where Drew and Miguel stood. "Have you seen Gwen, Andrew?" he asked.

Drew looked at his brother, noting his brother's pasty appearance. Something had happened. Something big.

"No. Why are you looking for her?"

Ethan shook his head. "This is not something that I want to talk to you about."

"Wait a second. Gwen was here?" Miguel asked as he turned to Ethan.

"Yes. She was. She heard that Sheridan was having the baby."

Miguel felt his blood boil. "What is wrong with you? Actually, what's wrong with the both of you? Haven't you caused my sister enough trouble? Is this the Crane family hobby or something?"

"Get off your stump," Ethan snarled. "Don't you think I know that I've hurt Theresa? I certainly don't need you to tell me that."

"I am her brother, and you better believe that I am going to call it like I see it!"

Drew stepped back and smiled wryly. "Well, look at the two of you go. What is this? The competition to see who gets to be martyr for the day?"

"Shut up, Andrew," Ethan said.

"Perhaps you can shed some light for me. What _did_ you do to get Theresa so upset? And what does it have to do with Gwen?"

Ethan said nothing, not trusting himself around Andrew at that moment. Or Miguel, for that matter. He needed to get away.

* * *

Theresa went running that afternoon. The cool air outside stung her lungs, but she continued. The proverbial demons were chasing her again. It was as though she could feel the guilt of the past nipping at her heels.

When she came back from her run, she took a shower and put on some warm, comfortable clothes before returning to the hospital to see Sheridan and her little niece. She hadn't relished the idea of going back, fearful that she would run into Ethan or Gwen, but the place was blissfully empty of people she'd rather not see.

Upon coming home again, she hadn't felt like doing much of anything.

Out of the large windows from her living room, she could see the waves from the ocean crashing onto the beach. She sat, mesmerized by them, remembering how she'd stood out amongst the waves with Whitney when she'd first come back to town all those months ago.

It was warm then. She'd dipped her hand into the waves, marveling at how the ocean was soft, penetrable. Yet who could stand against its storms?

It had been a day of hope—hope for the future, anticipation for the unknown. Now she felt nothing but dread.

"I'm starting to feel as though I haven't withstood any storms," she said aloud. "I let people get to me, I let circumstances get to me. I've even put my life on hold."

Her cat rubbed against her legs, and Theresa knelt to pick up Serendipity. The feline's gentle purring soothed Theresa's frayed nerves somewhat.

_When I came back to town, I thought I was strong enough to handle anything and everything. What could be worse than what I'd already been through? But at some point, I gave up control. _

She sighed._ When did that happen?_

_When did I begin letting other people dictate how I feel or what I should do?_

Theresa leaned back on her couch and groaned. People had been pulling her strings constantly. Today was no exception. Gwen just couldn't resist pouring salt on her wounds when she announced her pregnancy. And what had she done about it? She'd run away.

Why didn't I stay? Why did I let Gwen goad me into leaving when what I really wanted was to be with Ethan?

_Ethan. _

What must he be thinking or feeling? Theresa could tell that he'd been blindsided by Gwen's announcement. And what had she done? She'd turned tail and left when he needed her most.

_It's what we always do. We always run from each other._

_Not anymore, _she thought to herself as she stood and grabbed her coat and purse.

She left the house, making her way at the waterfront. If she knew Ethan, he was probably pouring all his frustrations into his work. Walking along the creaky planks, she found herself standing outside of his new office, still in the process of being renovated.

She knocked on the door and waited for him to open it. No answer.

She turned to walk away, but she heard the sound of a hammer and what she thought was mild cursing. Gathering her courage, she opened the door and walked inside.

The place was completely different from what she'd expected. She and Whitney had been to some of those old buildings when they were children, playing hide and seek when no one was looking. At the time, they'd seemed mildly scary, very rickety looking, and extremely unpleasant.

But this—this had an airy quality to it. Theresa saw that new sheet rock had been put on the walls. Pieces of trim were laid across sawhorses, waiting to be painted. The afternoon light shone through the large, clean windows. Ethan had been doing all of this himself?

"Ethan?" she called out.

He emerged from one of the back rooms, looking extremely tired and unhappy. Theresa noticed how his light blue T-shirt was sticking to him and how his blue jeans with the worn knees looked perfect on him.

He immediately set down the hammer he was carrying, his expression softening. "I didn't think I would see you again."

Did he dare have hope?

His words made her heart melt. She could hear so much in them. "I—I was worried about you. I couldn't stop thinking about you."

He turned away from her. "I'm sorry, Theresa. I didn't know. I honestly didn't. But it _is_ true. I spoke with her doctor."

"Ethan, please look at me. Please."

Slowly, he turned around, and she could see the redness around his blue eyes. His eyes, usually so vibrant with the twinkle she loved, looked dismal, dim.

She reached up and touched his face. "I wish I knew how to make it better for you. I—I know what she did, Ethan, and what she's trying to do now. Gwen thinks that I'm going to turn my back on you, to never want anything to do with you. But she's wrong."

"Is she?"

"Absolutely! Things haven't happened the way I would like. I'll be the first to admit that, but Ethan, we have to stop letting things come between us. We have to stop running from each other."

He took her hands in his. "But what do I have to offer you, Theresa? All I do—all I've ever done—is hurt you. And Gwen—she'll never be out of our lives now. Everything I touch turns to poison."

"No, it doesn't, Ethan. It doesn't! You asked what you have to offer, but Ethan, all I've ever wanted is you. That's it. Just you."

"Are you saying…"

She smiled. "I love you, Ethan Crane, with all of my heart! I'm not going to be afraid of that anymore."

He brushed his thumb over her lips. "Am I dreaming?" he asked with a laugh.

"If you're dreaming, I'm right there with you. I love you, Ethan. I love you. I love you!"

Ethan pulled her close, never wanting to let her go. "I love you, too, Resa. So much."

Theresa sighed as his mouth claimed hers in a tender kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning into him, desperate to be closer. His lips moved across hers, as he relearned her texture and taste.

Her heart swelled with love. It wasn't going to be easy for them. But what they had was worth fighting for. She didn't doubt that for an instant.

Her lips parted under his, and Ethan sighed. He couldn't believe the sensations coursing through him—and just from a simple kiss. He deepened their kiss, their tongues sparring with one another. She took his breath away.

Anything was possible!

_Anything! _

He was nearly overwhelmed by blind happiness. She was willing to take a chance on him, willing to fight for what they had.

It wasn't going to be easy for them, but it would be worth it. He didn't doubt that for an instant.

Theresa pulled away from him and looked up into his eyes. He nearly gasped when he saw the love shining from them. "I believe in you, Ethan."

His heart pounded. She spoke the words that had haunted him for so long, but this time, she wasn't beyond his reach.

"I believe in you, too, my love. I truly do. We have to make a promise to each other here and now. We have to be honest, even when it hurts."

She nodded vehemently. "No more secrets, no more lies, and no more pride. I've been so foolish, Ethan. It's as though I've been a puppet on a string, letting others jerk me around. Letting my pride and anger get in the way of what I want. When we were at the hospital earlier today, and you were by my side, I realized _that _is what I always want. Always."

His kissed the top of her head. "I'll always be here for you, Resa. No matter what. And there will be no more secrets, no more lies."

She smiled. "Think you can try that kiss a little lower?"

He smiled, and she could see that sparkle in his eyes again. "Lower, you say? How's this?" he asked as he kissed her forehead.

"Mmmm. That's nice, but I was thinking a little lower."

"Lower? Well, let's see what I can do." He kissed the tip of her nose. "How was that?"

"Just a little lower…."

He leaned in, his mouth only inches away from hers before he moved lower and lightly kissed her chin.

"Is that low enough?" he asked with a chuckle.

"You are a terrible, terrible tease!" she exclaimed before capturing his lips with a kiss.

She finally pulled away from him, knowing they both wanted so much more. But they had to take it slow. She was going to make sure that they got it right this time around.

"We have so much to talk about," he said as he held her, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"We do, and we will, but right now, I just want to enjoy being with you. I've missed you this last month—and these last six years."

"I've missed you, too. More than I can say."

"But we have so much ahead of us. So much to look forward to!" she said, her eyes brimming with excitement.

"Indeed we do." For the first time in a long time, he did look forward to the future. And it was because of the woman who stood with him. God how he loved her!

"So, Mr. Handyman, are you going to show me what you've been doing around this place? It looks amazing, though I must confess that I heard some colorful expletives escape your lips as I came in," she teased as she poked his stomach.

"Let's just say that I'm not perfect," Ethan said with a laugh.

"You? Not perfect? Maybe not, but it's our imperfections that make us who we are, and I very much love who you are, Ethan Crane."

"Then you're going to love this place because it's filled with lots and lots of my imperfections," he said as he took her hand and began the tour.

* * *

After a lingering kiss on her doorstep, Theresa said goodbye to Ethan before going inside her house. She felt like she was floating on a perfect cloud. Nothing was going to bring her down. Not Gwen. Absolutely nothing!

She flopped down on the sofa, unable to wipe the grin away as she touched her lips, remembering his kisses. She would never grow tired of them for as long as she lived.

It was a few minutes later when she heard a knock on her door. She squealed in delight, certain that Ethan was back. Bounding to the door, she turned its knob.

"You just couldn't stay away, could you?" she asked with excitement in her voice as she opened her front door.

"You could say that," came the reply. It wasn't Ethan.

She stared at the tall man who stood in her doorway. Her mouth felt incredibly dry. Was the whole world spinning, or was it just her?

Finally, she choked out his name. "Chuck."


	70. Chapter 70

**Author's Note: **Only five more chapters to go. Thanks so much for hanging in there for so long!**  
**

**Chapter Seventy: "As It Seems"**

"The girls are asleep," Charity said to Miguel with a smile as she closed the door to their bedroom.

"I thought things were awfully quiet," Miguel mumbled, not looking up from the letter he was reading in bed.

"They've had so much excitement today. Joy especially couldn't be more thrilled about little Katherine Pilar's birth. She's a beautiful baby, isn't she?"

"Yeah, she is," Miguel said absently.

Charity laughed. "She'll be positively spoiled!" Slowly, she peeled off the shirt she was wearing. She looked back at her husband. He wasn't paying any attention, so engrossed in the letter he was reading.

Sighing, she unbuttoned her blue jeans and slid them over her hips until they were a puddle at her feet. Stepping from them, she picked them up, walked across the room and put them in the hamper.

Clad in only a brassiere and panties, she stood before her husband, and grabbed the letter from his hands.

"Hey! What are you doing?" he demanded as she held the letter out of his reach.

"You haven't give me a proper goodnight kiss," she said, her lower lip stuck out in a playful pout.

Miguel suddenly became very aware of his wife's state of undress. "You're right. I haven't," he said pulling her onto the bed with him. She tossed the letter aside, forgotten.

Sometime later, as they lay in bed, Charity lightly ran her fingers up and down her husband's chest. "What's going on with you, Miguel?" she asked softly.

"What do you mean?"

"All day, you've been distracted. Then you were so short with Ethan and his brother at the hospital. I've just never seen you act like that before."

"You know I don't like the Cranes," he replied, not really wanting to discuss the matter further.

"I know they aren't your favorite people, especially after Theresa's involvement with them has caused her so much pain, but she's a grown woman. She has to make her own choices, whether we agree with those choices or not."

"I can't help but feel as though someone is playing a cruel trick on her, Charity. She's been through so much. I can't just stand by and let it happen."

"But what does that have to do with the Cranes?" Charity asked. Then realization dawned on her. "You think they have something to do with it. But Miguel, there is no way Ethan would do something like that to her. And from what I can tell about Andrew, he wouldn't either. He might not be the nicest guy out there, but I just have a feeling about him. He's different from the rest of them."

"They're all the same. Oh, Ethan—and Andrew for that matter—might come in a nice, affable package. They might be able to put on a stellar performance, but they're still Cranes, through and through."

"Please, Miguel. Not again."

"What?" he demanded as he propped up on his elbow.

Concern shone in her eyes as she reached out and touched his face. "You're starting to sound like you did before we were married. The doubts, the accusations. I don't want to see that happen to you again. I don't want to see you consumed by this!"

"All these things that are happening now make me realize that it's not going to end until someone puts an end to it. The Cranes are going to continue to play with people's lives."

She knew what he was thinking, and it scared her. "There was never any proof, Miguel. They didn't have anything to do with Kay. It was an accident. Pure and simple."

"But you _know_ how Kay was when she got that car."

"I know. She'd saved up for a long time to afford the down payment."

"She babied that car. She was so proud of it! There is no way something could've gone _that _wrong."

"Sometimes things happen, Miguel. They don't always make sense, and we don't always want to make sense of them, but that's the way life is."

"We were so close, Charity."

"I know, sweetie. I know that you thought you and Kay were close to finding out the truth about your father."

Miguel sighed as he shut his eyes. That wasn't what he meant.

* * *

"You're a million miles away," Heather murmured into Drew's ear.

"I'm just thinking," he said as he turned on his side.

"You certainly aren't thinking about me," she pouted. "Is it that woman you were seeing?"

He sighed. "That's part of it, I suppose," he replied as he brushed a strand of her red hair from her forehead.

Her eyes fluttered at his touch. "You know, I told myself that you were bad news. I'm not used to being tossed aside by men."

Drew raised an eyebrow. "Hurt your pride, did I?"

"Let's just say that I'm not deluding myself into thinking it's about anymore than it really is," she said. "You and I are great together in bed. Outside of the bedroom, I don't think we'd be so compatible."

"Probably not."

"I know we wouldn't be. You don't need me enough. I like for men to need me much more than I need them."

"What does your boyfriend say about that?" Drew asked with a laugh.

Heather rolled out of the bed and reached for her clothes. "He doesn't know, and he never will."

Drew placed one of his arms behind his head, propping his head as he watched her dress.

"See you later, Lover," she said as she pulled her shoes on.

"Yeah. Later."

She walked from the bedroom, and a moment later, Drew heard the door to his hotel suite open and close. She was gone.

He groaned as he rubbed his eyes.

He felt empty.

Sex had always made him feel better—and it was the longest stretch he'd gone without having a woman since he was a teenager, but it just didn't mean anything.

_When did it start having to mean something? _his mind screamed.

But he already knew the answer to that. It was when Theresa came into his life.

He was still worried about her. She'd acted so hurt earlier at the hospital. He just hoped that she was alright.

* * *

Theresa thought her knees were going to buckle. Her heart pounded so loudly, she could feel the blood rushing in her ears. She had no idea of what to say or even what to think. For the last year and a half, she'd dreamed of this moment. Since the strange phone calls came, she's allowed herself only the slightest glimmer of hope. Yet here he stood before her.

Her Chuck.

And he was alive!

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" he teased.

Theresa held her hand over her mouth, startled by the familiar voice, the familiar smile. It was the voice she'd dreamed of for many months following the accident; the smile she'd longed to see.

"Is it—is it really you?" Theresa asked as tears came to her eyes.

"Yes, Baby. It's me," he said as he studied the dark eyed beauty before him. Her long hair fell about her shoulders. Her eyes shone like fire. Her slender body trembled slightly.

She reached out, touching his face. His skin was warm, smooth. She slipped her hand beneath the jacket he wore, feeling the beating of his heart through his turtleneck sweater.

"Y-you're really here!" She wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry as she threw her arms around him.

She sighed as her arms encircled her, pulling her even closer. It felt so strange to be held by him again. It wasn't as she remembered. Had it really been so long that she'd forgotten?

"You're so beautiful," he murmured into her ear. "So beautiful."

She took his glove covered hands and pulled him inside. Closing the door behind him, he held her as she cried gently, clinging to him.

"Are you happy to see me?" he asked.

She looked up into his hazel eyes. "How can you even ask that?"

He looked down at her left hand. It was bare. "You don't wear your ring anymore."

"It's been a long time, Chuck," she replied quietly. "I didn't think you were ever coming back. Where have you been?"

He turned away from her. "It's a long story, Theresa."

"We appear to have plenty of time," she replied, her voice gently insistent.

"We do have plenty of time. Let's just enjoy each other for now," he said as he removed his jacket.

She watched him, feeling tongue tied. How was it possible that he was there? And why did it feel so strange? It was like nothing she'd imagined.

She took his jacket and hung it on her coat rack. Yet she noticed something strange. As she sat on the sofa next to him, she asked, "Aren't you going to take off your gloves?"

He looked at her hesitantly, uncertain how he should answer her. "Theresa, my hands…they don't look the same as they used to look. In the accident….." his voice trailed off.

She took his hands in her own. "Don't you know that it doesn't matter to me? I've always loved your hands, and I still will," she said as she slowly tugged at one of his gloves.

He jerked away from her, his action stunning her. "Did you hear what I said?"

"I—I'm sorry," she said. "I just…"

"No, I'm the one who is sorry," he said pulling her close. "I didn't mean to sound so harsh. That's not the person I want to be with you."

"Does Emmaline know?" she asked as she stared at him, trying to find the man she once loved in the man who was before her now. He was so changed! Yet how could she expect him to be otherwise? Something must've happened to cause these changes.

"Emmaline?" he questioned.

"Yes. Does your mother know that you're here? This is….this is the answer to my prayers!"

"No, she doesn't know. And she can't, Theresa. This has to be between you and me."

"But why? She is going to be so unbelievably thrilled when she hears! We should call her now."

"We can't. Look, I only have a little bit of time before they realize I'm gone."

"Who?" she asked, her voice belying the confusion she felt.

"Just listen. Don't ask questions," he instructed. "I want you to come away with me. We have to leave here."

Her mind flashed to Ethan. She loved him desperately. She couldn't just turn her back on that! And her family—she was so thrilled to be close with them again. Her friends, too, were important to her. And what about her business? "I-I can't, Chuck. My whole life is here."

"We were going to make a life together at one time," he reminded her. "You remember how it was between us, don't you?" he asked as he leaned close to her.

Her heart pounded as she felt herself being pushed back on the sofa as one of his gloved hands moved up her leg.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I want it to be the way it used to be. I want to make love to you just like we used to," he said as he kissed her neck.

Theresa gasped. She and Chuck had _never_ been together in that way.

_This wasn't Chuck! _

She pushed against his shoulders. "Wait."

"What is it?" he asked as he pulled away from her somewhat, impatience in his voice.

Theresa stared into his eyes, seeing how hard they were. Why hadn't she realized it before? She knew that nothing had felt right since he'd shown up!

Oh God! What kind of game was this man playing?

She tried to find her courage, though she imagined she was speaking more loudly than she normally did. "It's just that we haven't been together in so long. I want to make it special."

"Being with you _will _be special," he said, still pinning her down.

"Yes, but maybe you would like it better if I were to slip into something more comfortable," she said, dropping the tone of her voice, hoping she sounded sultry.

"Hurry," he said as he allowed her to get up.

"I'll be back before you know it," she said as she stood. She could feel his gaze on her as she looked around the room. Her eyes looked toward the front door. She would never make it. She doubted she'd be able to unlock the two locks on the sliding door before he got to her, either. No, she would have to do something else.

Slowly, she walked up the stairs, heading toward her bedroom. Closing the door behind her, she locked it before taking a chair and placing it under the knob. Hurriedly, she went for the phone on her nightstand. Picking it up, she wanted to cry out when she heard no dial tone.

The phone line had been cut, and her cell phone was in her purse downstairs.

How could this be happening? And how could that man look and sound so much like Chuck?

_Think, Theresa! Think!_

"Are you about ready?" she heard his voice call from downstairs.

Panic started setting in. She parted the vertical blinds and slid open the door that led from her bedroom to her balcony. Walking out on it, she saw the ground was a long way down. Like most beach houses, her home was elevated somewhat to protect against the water in storms. If she jumped, there was an excellent chance that she would hurt—or even kill—herself.

Then an idea occurred to her. She ran to her bed, stripping off the sheets.

That was when the knocking came.

"What are you doing in there?" he demanded.

"Just be patient. I'm making myself beautiful for you," she called back as she tore one of the sheets lengthwise. Tying the ends of the strips together, she pulled at them, testing their strength.

He knocked again.

"Open up, Theresa!"

"You've waited this long. You can wait five more minutes," she called back, trying to sound as sweet as she could.

She heard as he tried to turn to the doorknob. "What the hell? You've locked me out!" he shouted.

Her heart pounded as she heard him beating on the door. Quickly, she secured the bed sheets to the railing on her balcony, preparing to climb over it.

That was when she heard him break through the door. She saw his look of rage—the features she'd loved so much on her Chuck marred into something ugly.

He looked around and then saw her out on the balcony. She'd already begun to climb down by the time he made it out onto balcony. Unfortunately for her, she hadn't made it very far. He leaned over and grabbed hold of one of her wrists.

"Let go of me!" she demanded as she tried to pull away from him.

Yet his strength was superior. Holding onto both her hand and the sheet, he pulled her back up.

Roughing pulling her small body over the railing, he pushed her back into the bedroom and shoved her hard against the wall, knocking the wind from her. Gasping for air, she looked at the man, fear in her eyes, fear in her very soul.

"Just where did you think you were going? We were right in the middle of something," he said as he reached for the button on his pants.

* * *

"I don't feel comfortable with this," Gary Livingston spoke in a hushed tone into his phone so that his wife wouldn't hear. "This is not what I bargained for!"

The harsh laugh from the other end of the phone line made Gary go numb. _"I don't really care about your comfort, Livingston." _

"I just don't get this! The sound mechanism you wanted…what good does it do?"

_"Well, my man had to sound like Chuck Wilson, didn't he?"_

"But if you wanted to murder her, why go to the trouble of hiring someone to impersonate Chuck Wilson while he does it? Why not just have someone go in and get the job done?"

_"It was irresistible to twist the knife in her back, as it were. Nothing will be as it seems for her. Oh, he'll let her think she's getting everything she's ever wanted, then pull the rug from under her. Believe me. Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald is getting everything she deserves."_


	71. Chapter 71

**Chapter Seventy-One "Precariousness of Life"**

Theresa struggled to catch her breath as she felt herself being slammed into the wall. It was all happening so fast! She gasped, the pain of having the wind knocked from her lungs severe.

She looked at the man defiantly—this man who looked so much like Chuck.

How was it even possible?

She prayed over and over that she was having a terrible nightmare. All of this was just going to go away. It would. She just had to believe it.

_But it wasn't going away._

"Just where did you think you were going? We were right in the middle of something," he said as he reached for the button on his pants.

Theresa thought she was going to be sick as she felt bile rise to her throat. She tried to move away from him through the pain she felt, but he grabbed onto her right arm tightly, swinging her around to face him. Pulling her closely to him, he kissed her roughly, his tongue trying to invade her mouth.

Disgust filled Theresa as she bit his lip. She nearly gagged when he pulled away from her. His face looked all wrong!

With the back of his hand, he slapped her hard, leaving her feeling dazed. "Bitch! Now look what you've done!" he yelled as he touched his mouth then pulled his hand away seeing the blood she'd drawn. She'd managed to tear a hole in the rather realistic mask he wore.

She gasped, stunned not only by the strike, but also by what she saw next.

Reaching under the collar of his turtleneck, he began to tug, removing his mask until only small pieces of the prosthetics remained on his face held by the strong adhesive. He held the mask up. "And this was one of my favorite pieces of work," he lamented.

Anger flashed in her eyes. "And those sheets I tore were my favorite set, so I guess we're even!"

"Feisty, aren't you? I've always like my women feisty," he said as he flung her small body on her bed.

She scrambled to get away from him, but he only laughed at her feeble attempts.

"Why are you doing this?" she choked out as he pinned her arms down.

Looking down at her, he grinned. "Why the hell not? You're going to die anyway. Why not enjoy myself? When I saw you standing there at the door, I knew I had to have you."

Theresa's heart pounded. He was there to kill her? Why?

_Keep your cool, Theresa. Keep your cool. Oh God! I wish Ethan were here—or Luis! No. Keep your cool. Don't lose it. Don't lose it! The only way you're going to get out of this alive is by using your head._

"Please. I've never done this before," she whispered, tears filling her eyes.

He looked at her in surprise, momentarily loosening her grip on her arms. Theresa reached for her alarm clock, quickly swinging it at his head as hard as she could.

He groaned as the clock made contact with his skull. Momentarily disoriented he tried to steady himself.

Theresa scurried off the bed and ran out of the room.

She'd hit him hard, but not hard enough. He stumbled after her.

She rounded the corner to the stairs, rushing down them. Her heart pounded as she could feel him close on her heels. Bounding to the front door, she struggled to turn the locks. Finally, they turned. She began to pull the door open, but he was right behind her. He pushed on the door, and her pulls were no match for his strength.

"NOOOOO!" she screamed as she drove her elbow into his stomach.

His grunt was followed by a laugh.

"So you want to play rough, do you? Well I've always liked it rough!"

* * *

Ethan smiled as he walked slowly down the beach. When he'd looked into Theresa's eyes and saw the love shining in them that night, he felt like a new person. They'd wasted so much time. So much time! But no more. Nothing was going to come between them now.

He was under no illusions. Things wouldn't be easy. But when he thought of the alternative—a life without her—that wasn't something he was willing to endure.

Lifting his fingers to his lips, he remembered their kiss at her doorstep. He'd never wanted to leave. It reminded him vaguely of all those years ago when they were only friends and he would take her home after work. They would talk and laugh for a long time before they'd actually say goodnight.

The little things she did really got to him. The way she looked down with the tiniest of smiles at the corner of her lips, her long eyelashes, the way she touched his fingers, her infectious laugh….all of it was inherently _Theresa._

She took his heart with her when she walked into that house. But then again, she'd always held his heart in her hands.

He didn't want to wait until tomorrow to see her. Even if it for just a few more minutes, even if it was just a glimpse, he wanted to be near her.

He turned around and began walking back toward her house.

Yet Ethan's bliss changed to the most intense fear he had never known when he heard what sounded like Theresa's scream as he came near her home.

_Oh God, no! _

He ran as quickly as his legs would carry him. Coming to the front door, he swung it open. With his eyes surveying the living room, he could hear Theresa's sobs.

"Stop fighting me bitch! Just lie back and enjoy it!" came the harsh reply.

A rage Ethan had never felt before came over him as he rushed into the room. He could see Theresa pinned down on the floor, a man on top of her. He was pulling at her pants and trying to get her legs apart.

The man reached back to hit her, but stopped when he heard a noise behind him.

Through sheer adrenaline and blind rage, Ethan grabbed onto the man's sweater, pulled him up, and sent him hurdling over the couch. He landed on Theresa's glass coffee table.

Grunting, he made his way up, stunned by the pain he felt as the small shards of glass stuck in his back. Ethan grabbed him up by the neck, his fist making contact with the man's face.

Though stunned, the man reached into his back pocket, pain searing through his shoulders, and pulled out a knife.

"Ethan, look out!" Theresa cried out as she saw the gleam of the metal.

Ethan quickly sidestepped the man. The weight of the man's lunge carried him forward, and he fell to the ground.

Ethan pulled him up and could see the blood pouring from his mouth. He looked lower, seeing the knife the man carried was lodged deeply within his chest.

The sudden gurgle from him made Theresa's stomach turn.

"Call 911," Ethan instructed.

"The phone line was cut," Theresa explained as she watched in horror.

Ethan reached into the pocket of his jacket, but the phone wasn't there. "Dammit! Where is it?"

Theresa looked around, finally finding that it had somehow managed to land on the floor during Ethan's scuffle with the man.

She quickly turned it on and began to dial the emergency number.

Though the paramedics and police arrived a few minutes later, Theresa couldn't stop shaking. Ethan held her close, smoothing her hair, whispering soothing words into her ears. It nearly killed him that she'd been so frightened and alone. Dear God, what if he hadn't stopped back by? He couldn't even entertain the notion of being without her.

Not again.

* * *

"Theresa, are you okay?" Sam Bennett asked as he approached her.

Theresa didn't answer him immediately. Her attention was focused on the two paramedics who hovered over the imposter's body.

"Ready to call it?" the first asked.

"Yeah. This one—he's a goner. Look at all that blood. Knife must've severed one of his arteries."

"Theresa?" Sam questioned, finally catching her attention. "Did he hurt you?"

Ethan swallowed hard. He knew Sam was asking whether the man had raped her.

"N-no," she said shakily. "Except for a few bruises, I'm fine. If Ethan hadn't come…." Her voice trailed off and she leaned her head against Ethan's chest, feeling the steady, comforting beat of his heart.

"I'm going to have some people coming in and taking pictures. Have you moved anything?"

"No. We've left everything as it was," Ethan replied.

"Good thinking," Sam said with a nod. "Theresa, we need to get you checked out. I'm also going to need a statement."

She nodded. "I understand."

"How about you, Ethan? Are you alright?" Sam asked noting the younger man's skinned knuckles.

Ethan looked down at his hands. He hadn't even realized that he was bleeding. "I'm fine, Sam. I just—I want to get Theresa out of here. She doesn't need to see all this."

"I don't want to go to the hospital," she said, shaking her head vehemently.

"Theresa, we need to get you checked out," Ethan said softly.

"I'm fine! Just sore. Just—" Her words broke off as she looked in the direction of the dead man.

"Theresa, did you know this man?" Sam asked seeing her reaction.

"I—I thought I did. When he first showed up, I thought he was Chuck."

"What?" Ethan asked, his voice belying the surprise he felt.

"He—he wore a mask. It looked so real! I thought he was Chuck, and Chuck would never have hurt me! And his voice…."

"What's _this_?" one of the paramedics asked loudly.

Sam turned around, his attention captured by the man. "What did you find?"

"It looks like some kind of electronic device taped to his neck," the man replied.

Sam's brows furrowed. "An electronic device? What is going on here?" he muttered. Shaking his head, he turned back to Theresa and Ethan. "I'm going to call Luis. He'll want to be with you at the station."

"No, Chief Bennett, you can't. Sheridan just had the baby today. Now isn't a good time!" Theresa protested. "They deserve time together as a family."

"I'll be with Theresa every step of the way," Ethan asserted.

Sam looked at him, surprise etching his features. He hadn't really thought about it, but he knew that the two of them used to be involved. But Ethan was still married to Gwen, wasn't he? Had things changed so much?

Nodding, Sam turned his attention to two of his detectives who had approached the scene. "Excuse me for a moment."

Theresa's eyes darted around the room. A stranger had invaded her home, her sanctuary. And now all of these men and women were wandering through what used to be her haven, investigating, collecting evidence.

"Let's go outside," Ethan said softly. He took her trembling hand and led her outside onto the deck. The breeze coming from the ocean was cool, but she was relieved to feel it. Everything was getting too close in there.

Standing behind Theresa, Ethan wrapped his arms around her, trying to protect her from both the wind and the harsh reality of what faced them inside the house.

They stood in silence until Ethan just couldn't take it anymore. "I never should have left you, Resa. If I hadn't, this never would have happened!"

"This is _not_ your fault! We said goodnight like normal couples do. Ethan, if you hadn't come back….," she began as her eyes filled with new tears, her voice trailing off.

He drew in a deep breath. "I can't even stand to think of what would've happened!"

"What made you come back?"

Ethan brought her to him more tightly. "I just couldn't stay away. I kept thinking of you. Your smile, your laugh, the little crinkling of your nose. I couldn't wait to see you again."

"I love you, Ethan."

He sighed. He would never grow tired of hearing those words from her.

"I love you, too, baby."

They stood in silence for a few minutes, listening to the commotion inside her home, before Ethan spoke again. "Theresa, you mentioned that the man…well, that he looked like Chuck."

She nodded slightly.

"When you thought it was him…."

She knew what he was asking, what he feared. "I won't lie to you, Ethan. I was so happy_. So happy! _I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Maybe if I hadn't wanted him to be alive so badly, I would've realized it was a trick. Miguel tried to warn me earlier, and I wouldn't listen!"

"Miguel? Not Luis?" Ethan asked. He knew Luis was always suspicious, but Miguel always seemed to take things at face value.

"Yes, Miguel. He kept trying to tell me what you and everyone else—except Mr. Livingston—had been saying. There was no way Chuck could still be alive. But I didn't want to hear it! I just didn't! When I think of how senseless the accident was….and how all of our plans for the future were just gone….I just wanted to believe so badly that somehow—by some miracle—Chuck could still be out there!"

Ethan swallowed hard. He knew that Theresa loved Chuck. Yet hearing her speak of it, knowing that she had a whole other life without him, wasn't easy. If Chuck really had been alive, how might things be different for them?

"How did you know it wasn't him?"

"I didn't at first. He hugged me, and it…it felt strange. I just thought that it was because we'd not seen each other for so long. Then the little things got to me. He was wearing these gloves, and he wouldn't take them off. He—he said that he'd been hurt in the accident, that his hands were disfigured. I told him that it didn't matter to me, but when I tried to take off the gloves, he became angry."

"He didn't want to leave fingerprints," Ethan said.

"_Now_ I know that's what it was, but I foolishly believed him. I asked him if he'd spoken to Emmaline, and it was as though he drew a blank. Looking back, I realize that he didn't know who I was talking about.

"He asked me to leave with him, but I told him I couldn't."

Relief washed over Ethan. "You did?"

"How could I leave my family, my friends, or my shop? But most especially, how could I leave you, Ethan?" She turned around to face him. "How could I give you up again? There was _no way_ I could!

"He didn't want to accept that. He started to touch me and tell me to remember how things used to be between us. When he talked about us having made love before, everything became clear." She hesitated before continuing. "It wasn't like that with Chuck and me. It just wasn't."

"You must've been so scared," Ethan said trying to fight back the tears that were threatening to fill his eyes. To have come so close to losing his Resa forever….it was a very frightening reminder of the precariousness of life.

"I played along, telling him I wanted to make it special. He let me get off the couch. I thought about trying to make it out of the house through the front door or the deck, but there was no way I would've made it. He would've known that _I_ knew he wasn't the real thing. So I went upstairs, and he thought I was getting ready for him." She shuddered at the thought. "I locked the door to my bedroom and tried to call 911, but the phone line had been cut."

"Oh God."

"I was going to try to jump from my deck, but it was too high. I tore my sheets and tied them together to make a rope, like people do to escape from a fire, but by this time he was getting impatient. When he discovered that I had locked the bedroom door, he went ballistic! He beat through it and came after me, pulling me back over onto the balcony when I was trying to climb down."

He touched her face, and she winced, her bruises making their presence known.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. He didn't want to hurt her for anything.

"That was when he got rough with me. I tried to fight against him, but he was so strong! I did mess up his mask, and that was when he peeled it off. I finally managed to hit him in the head with my alarm clock, but it didn't slow him down much. I ran down the stairs, made it to the front door and unlocked it. Just as I was opening it, he pushed it shut.

"And then a few minutes later you were there. Ethan, when I saw you, I thought I was hallucinating. It was like you came out of nowhere!"

He leaned his forehead against yours. If she hadn't made it downstairs and unlocked the door, he knew he wouldn't be holding her at that moment. "When I saw what he was trying to do, I lost it, Theresa."

She closed her eyes, trying to get the image of the man looking down at her as he pinned her to the floor from her mind, but it was as though he was etched in her memory.

She felt a chill run through her as she remembered seeing the light come off the knife. "If anything would have happened to you, Ethan, I don't know what I would have done."

He took a deep breath. "What happened in those minutes, Theresa? Did he tell you anything?"

"Th-that he was going to kill me, but he wanted to have some fun first."

"Oh baby," he sighed as he tenderly held her. "Why would he do this to you? And why would he do it disguised as Chuck? Those phone calls…."

"Were fake."

"But Mr. Livingston told you that they were legitimate?" Ethan asked, suspicion beginning to fill him.

"That's what he said. It was so strange the last time I went to see him, Ethan. He seemed almost anxious as we talked, yet he was so certain that it was Chuck on the tape." She swallowed. "He asked me about you, rather nosily, might I add."

"Dammit all to hell!" Ethan burst out.

Theresa was taken aback by his outburst. "What?"

"Don't you see? He was in on this! He _knew _this was all a ruse, and he played the game! He was feeding you to the wolves!"

And Ethan had a pretty good idea of just who those wolves might be.

"And I played right into his hands! Why did this happen?"

Ethan swallowed hard. He was fairly certain he knew why, and it made his stomach turn. It was about him—about keeping Theresa out of his life.

Theresa had been in danger because of him!

He looked up at the sky.

Dear God, what was he going to do?

She noticed his pensiveness. Lightly, she reached up and touched his face. "Ethan, what is it? Do you know something?"

He looked into her dark eyes, finding himself irresistibly drawn in. "All I know is that I'm never going to let anyone hurt you again."

* * *

After Sam took Theresa and Ethan's statements, Ethan insisted upon taking her to the hospital, despite her hesitancy. So with Serendipity in tow in a pet carrier, the two made their way to the emergency room. Though superficial, the bruises on her arms and along her left cheek were painful. She was also incredibly sore. Her entire body ached from her fitful struggles.

While at the hospital, pictures were taken of her injuries, as well.

The physician, a friend of Ethan's, also put salve on his knuckles at Theresa's insistence.

She'd never seen Ethan act the way he had. Sure—she'd heard about the fight that broke out at the Seascape with Drew after she left on that horrible night of humiliation. She'd seen the after effects on both Ethan's and Drew's faces, but she'd just never imagined Ethan as much of a fighter. Yet the way he came after the man with such a vengeance left her speechless.

After leaving the hospital, Ethan took her home with him. He'd settled into his new apartment a few weeks earlier. It was a nice place, though modest by Crane standards. It was a one-bedroom apartment near the ocean.

The entrance opened into a small anteroom that led to the living room. The living room was spacious, though sparsely decorated. A large black leather sofa was set against the far wall. Glass end tables adorned either end of the sofa, and a matching coffeetable was placed before it. She also noticed a home theater. Otherwise, with the exception of a fireplace, the room was empty. No pictures hung on the walls. No trinkets were displayed.

"It's a work in progress," he offered shyly, feeling self-conscious about the lack of décor.

"It just needs a woman's touch," she replied.

Ethan set down the pet carrier and let Serendipity out. The cat was eager to leave the confines of the carrier but was hesitant about exiting to the new surroundings.

"Could I offer you something to drink?" he asked.

Her mouth did feel rather dry. "Just water, please," she said she said as she followed him into the kitchen. She watched as he opened the refrigerator, which was, also, mostly bare.

"The kitchen's a work in progress, too," he said with a small laugh.

She smiled. Even when she felt rotten, Ethan knew how to make her feel better. "That's okay. I remember what a bachelor's apartment looks like. When Chuck and I first started dating…." Her voice trailed off. "I'm sorry, Ethan. I don't mean to talk about him."

"It's okay, Resa. I know that he was a big part of your life."

Still, Theresa nervously bit her lip. She felt as though she was always saying the wrong thing, as though the past were always making its presence known. When she and Chuck were first getting to know each other, she would sometimes make reference to Ethan accidentally. Chuck was always understanding, but Theresa knew it was probably hard for him to deal with. And here she was doing the same thing with Ethan.

Ethan took a water bottle from the refrigerator, removed a clean glass from the cupboard, and poured the water into it for her.

"Thank you," she said after he handed it to her.

She closed her eyes, letting the liquid wash down her throat.

All she could see was Chuck's face. But it wasn't really his face, was it?

Theresa shuddered.

She felt dirty.

All she wanted to do was wash the man's touches from her body. He'd invaded her home and tried to invade her body. And he perpetrated it in the cruelest way possible.

Everything was starting to sink in. What an elaborate…and purposeful….plan it had been! But why? Who would want to hurt her by making it seem as though Chuck was alive? And why would someone go to all the trouble of attempting to have her killed by a Chuck look-alike? Why not just do it and get it over with? It was borderline ridiculous and utterly frightening.

"Are you cold?" Ethan asked seeing her tremble.

Theresa looked at him, her eyes latching onto his kind eyes, so filled with concern and love. She shook her head.

"Do you want me to draw a bath for you?" he asked.

It was as if he'd read her mind. "That would be wonderful," she admitted.

He lightly squeezed her hand before heading toward the bathroom to fill the tub. She heard the water running, and she walked back into the living room. Sinking on the large sofa, she sighed. It had been an extraordinarily long day! There'd been so much happiness with the birth of Katherine Pilar and finally swallowing her pride and telling Ethan she wanted to be with him….and so many things she wished she hadn't experienced….like overhearing Gwen tell Ethan she was pregnant and then the nightmare with the imposter.

Leaning over, Theresa lay her head on the arm of the sofa.

Ethan was going to be a father.

Long ago, they'd spoken of what their future would be like: marriage, a family. Now he was having a child with _Gwen_.

She sighed as she heard him walk into his bedroom and start going through drawers. A few minutes later, he walked back into the bathroom, setting some things out for her before coming back into the living room.

He knelt on the floor in front of the sofa and gently stroked her hair. "The water is ready," he said softly.

She gave a small nod before pulling herself up. Exhaustion was threatening to take over.

"I put some clothes in the bathroom for you."

"Thank you," she said quietly as she touched his face.

She stayed in the bathtub a long time, scrubbing, but never feeling clean enough. Would she ever feel clean again?

When she finally emerged from the bathroom, she was wearing one of Ethan's law school sweatshirts, along with sweatpants, much too large for her. A towel was wrapped around her head.

She saw that he'd built a fire in the fireplace and made hot cocoa, just like her mother used to make.

He smiled when he saw her. The sweatpants were in danger of falling down. She had to hold onto them at the waist, and she'd rolled them up at the legs. "You're beautiful."

"I look scary," she said ruefully thinking of the dark purple bruise on her face.

"You're always beautiful to me. No matter what."

He took her hand and led her in front of the fire. They sat on throw pillows, and he gently removed the towel from her hair before he began to brush it for her.

All she wanted to do was sink into his arms. "You're too good to be true," she whispered.

How could she be thinking good things about him? He certainly didn't feel like he was so great. How many times had he made her cry? How many times had he walked away from her when he should have fought harder? How much time had they wasted because of his stupidity?

And now people were gunning for her because of him? The very thought of it made him feel ill. Yet here she was, so loving, so trusting, so willing to accept whatever he could give her.

She pulled his arms around her waist, leaning back against him. As she lightly trailed her fingers along his arms, he drew in a breath. The simplest touch from her made him feel like he was in heaven.

"Together, we can face anything," she said as fatigue began to overtake her.

"I'm glad you feel that way, because I'm never letting go again. I love you, Theresa."

He would keep her safe, regardless of the repercussions.


	72. Chapter 72

**Chapter Seventy-Two: Floodgates**

_It had rained heavily that day, but it was over for the most part. All that remained were light showers bringing rain which fell gently to the ground forming perfect puddles outside on that warm day in May._

_Theresa looked outside longingly, forgetting to concentrate on what she was being told. _

_"Theresa, did you hear me?" Ethan asked. _

_Snapping back to attention, Theresa turned to look at Ethan. "I'm sorry Ethan. What were you saying?"_

_"Just that you did a wonderful job on the reports." Ethan studied his companion carefully. Something was amiss. She didn't seem her normal, exuberant self that day. "Are you okay?"_

_"I'm fine. Just tired, I guess," she replied. _

_"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you to come over on your day off. You are always helping me and my family, and I've just taken you for granted."_

_Theresa smiled at Ethan. "I promise it's not that, Ethan. I love to spend time with you. Helping out, I mean," she was quick to add._

_"Then what is it? Is it Chuck? Are you missing him?"_

_"Good heavens, no! I mean, it has nothing to do with him."_

_"I'm glad this isn't about Chuck," Ethan stated._

_"You are?" Theresa asked, hope swelling within her._

_Ethan looked at her, his eyes locking onto hers. He hated to see her so upset. And for what? She deserved someone who would appreciate her. Not this guy who had broken her heart. "Of course! I consider you to be one of my best friends, Theresa. I hate that this guy hurt you so badly, but it's good to know that you're moving on. Any man would be lucky to have your love."_

_"Do you really think so?" Theresa asked._

_"I know so," Ethan stated emphatically. "So if this isn't about Chuck, what is it?"_

_Theresa took Ethan's hand and led him to the window. "Do you see it, Ethan?"_

_Ethan looked out the window, but all he saw was a gloomy, foggy, rainy day. "What am I looking for?"_

_"The possibilities...the puddles."_

_Ethan looked at Theresa. "The puddles?"_

_"Don't tell me you never went puddle jumping when you were little!" Theresa teased._

_Ethan smiled. Theresa was unlike any woman he'd ever known. She found delight in the smallest, most obscure things, and in many ways, she opened up the world for him. _

_"I can't say I ever did," he replied._

_Her eyes grew dreamy. "When I was a little girl, Miguel, Paloma, and I used to love to go outside when it was raining. Mama never liked for us to be outside in the rain, so we'd try to sneak out. Our laughter always gave us away though. We would jump in the puddles, trying to splash the water on each other. Mama would make us come in, convinced that we were going to catch our deaths. Of course, now that I'm older, I know it must have been horrible to try to wash our clothes after our puddle jumping escapades. But Ethan, it was so much fun."_

_"It sounds like it. My brother, sisters, and I never had that much interaction. We were always in boarding school. I can't even begin to imagine what it must have been like to be together like that."_

_"I do have good memories," she replied._

_"What about now? Do you see Paloma often?"_

_She shook her head. "No. Nor Miguel, for that matter. When Paloma went to live with my tia, um, my aunt in Spain, it was hard. But we don't really have the money to go and see her, and she loves Spain so much, I'm not sure she'll ever want to come back to Harmony, unless it's for my wedding or Luis's or Miguel's."_

_"Why did she leave?" Ethan asked. He'd never heard much about Theresa's sister, Paloma, and he found himself to be quite curious._

_"That's a long story," Theresa said, once again looking out the window. _

_Her expression was melancholy, and Ethan wanted to make the pain go away. He took her by the hand. "Come on," he told her as he began to lead her to the door._

_"Where are we going?" she asked._

_"I need help with something."_

_"What?" she asked._

_"Because you are, of course, an expert puddle jumper, I thought you could show a novice, like myself, the finer points of puddle jumping."_

_"Ethan, are you_ serious_?" Theresa asked._

_"Aren't you always the one who is telling me to do the unexpected?"_

_"So true," she replied. Impulsively, she stood on her toes and kissed Ethan on the cheek. "You are the best!" _

_"So I've been told," he said with mock seriousness, though he couldn't deny the small butterflies he felt when her lips brushed against his cheek._

_She playfully punched his arm. "In the immortal words of Miguel Lopez-Fitzgerald, 'Last one outside is a rotten egg!'"_

_Theresa had never had so much fun in her entire life. The first thing she did was take off her shoes, and she instructed Ethan to do the same. _

_"Come stand next to me," she told him, curling her finger._

_Not knowing her intentions, he did as he was told. Immediately, she jumped in the puddle, splashing him with water. An all-out water war soon ensued, culminating in Ethan picking Theresa up off her feet and laying her in a puddle._

_Shocked by the cold water, Theresa squealed. Between fits of laughter, she reached out and tickled Ethan who was leaning over her. Catching him off guard, Theresa managed to roll him around onto the ground. Still being tickled, Ethan grabbed her hands and pulled her down on top of him. "Did anyone ever tell you that you don't play fair?" he asked laughing. _

_"Who ever said we were going to play fair?" she asked with a devilish grin. _

_Their eyes met, and both became quite aware of their close proximity. Yet neither wanted to move. Ethan touched her face. She was so beautiful, so innocent._ If you only knew what I was thinking, _he thought to himself._

_"Theresita, Ethan, what is going on here?" Pilar asked, coming outside, carrying an umbrella._

_Ethan and Theresa looked up at her mother and quickly came to their feet. "We were puddle jumping, Mama."_

_"It looked more like wallowing in the mud to me," Pilar commented wryly. "Honestly, the two of you are going to catch your death!" _

_"I guess we should go inside," Ethan said._

_"You're right," Theresa said. _

_"Go up the back way. I don't want you tracking mud and water all over the house," Pilar said as Ethan and Theresa walked past her. "Oh, and Theresa, we'll talk about this tonight at home."_

_"Yes, Mama."_

"Dios, salva mi hija de ella misma," _Pilar muttered._

_Theresa emerged from the bathroom wearing a pair of Ethan's sweatpants and a button-up shirt. With a towel wrapped around her wet hair, she felt as though she were in a cocoon. _

_"You certainly clean up well," Ethan said, looking up at her from his laptop computer. He, too, had showered and changed. He had a hard time taking his eyes off of her. There was something about seeing Theresa in his clothes. It made him feel almost possessive of her._

_"Getting cleaned up after being in the mud would make anyone look better," Theresa said smiling. "Thank you, Ethan."_

_"For what?"_

_"For helping me to not miss my sister so much. For being my puddle jumping partner."_

_"We're making quite a habit out of being partners, aren't we?" he asked. "First, we were duet partners, then cookie partners, and now puddle jumping partners."_

_"I wouldn't have it any other way," she said softly. _

_She seemed to be lost in thought, and he noticed a shiver run through her. _

_Seeing her tremble, he asked, "Are you cold?"_

_Without waiting for her response, he jumped up and rubbed her hands and arms. "Better?"_

_"Much," Theresa said looking up at him. "Gwen is a lucky woman. I hope that someday I will marry someone as kind and caring as you are, Ethan."_

_He saw the sadness in her eyes, and had to stop himself from wanting to just hold her. "There is someone out there for you, Theresa. Someone who will love you the way you deserve to be loved."_

_"From your mouth..."_

_He smiled at her warmly. "It will happen," he promised. _

_She nodded. "Um, I guess I should probably brush my hair and dry it."_

_"Sure," he replied._

_She removed the towel from her head and her long, dark hair came tumbling down her back. She pulled a hairbrush from her purse and sat on the edge of his bed. _

_"May I?" he asked extending his hand to take the brush from her._

_"Of course," she replied giving it to him. He sat on the bed behind her and began to gently brush her hair._

_He'd always loved her hair. A few times when they'd danced, he'd felt the silkiness of it tickle his hand as he touched her back. She was so amazingly beautiful, even with wet hair and baggy clothes._

_Ethan moved his hand along the nape of her neck, moving her hair aside. She drew in a breath, praying that the moment would never end. A single tear trickled down her cheek._

_Seeing the tear, Ethan asked, "Did I pull your hair? Did I hurt you?"_

_Theresa turned around and looked in his concerned, blue eyes. "No. You've been so gentle," she replied softly. _

_He reached out and wiped her tear away. His hand lingered on her cheek, and she reached up and placed her hand over his, wrapping her fingers around it. She closed her eyes again, trying to gather her strength._

_"But someone hasn't been gentle enough with you," he whispered. _

_Her eyes opened and she looked at him intently. _

_"You are so beautiful," he said. "I can never get over it."_

_Theresa placed a finger over his lips. "Sssshhh," she said. She leaned forward and touched his lips with her own. A dam of emotions was released as she kissed him with her entire being. She could hardly believe her own boldness, but she couldn't hide what she was feeling any longer._

_Ethan tasted her, teased her. He tilted his head, kissing her deeply. His tongue sparred with hers, leaving both of them breathless, wanting more. _

_She tugged at the hem of his shirt, bringing it up until she had pulled it over his head. Lightly, teasingly, she ran her hands down his chest resting them at his waist. _

_She leaned back on the bed, and brought Ethan down on her. He kissed her feverishly, the heat within him becoming almost unbearable. He traced her neck with kisses as his hands reached between them and began to unfasten the buttons on the shirt she wore. She moaned softly as she ran her fingers through his hair._

_Eternity passed through him in an instant. He never wanted to let her go. _

Ethan jerked awake and silently cursed. His mind knew that it was all a dream, but his body, on the other hand…..

He let out the breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding. What a dream it had been! He remembered that day he and Theresa had spent together all those years ago, but it had been so long since he'd even thought of it. What prompted the sudden memories in the form of a dream now?

But he already knew the answer to that. _He wanted her._ He'd _always_ wanted her, but now she was with him again. After last night's terrifying ordeal, she stayed with him and was finally within his reach.

Ethan looked at the woman who slept so peacefully next to him. She looked like an angel with her hair dark hair spread gently on the pillow. A beautiful angel, a sensual angel. The slight curve of a smile on her lips captivated him.

She stirred, turning. He gasped at his own response when he felt her small body pressed against him. Even in her slumber, she had the power to drive him crazy.

_Get a grip, Crane. Get a grip_, the voice of reason within him warned. _This is not what Theresa needs right now._

Indeed, he hadn't even intended to stay in the same room with her. She'd fallen asleep in his arms in front of the fire. Some time later, he'd carried her into his bedroom, pulling back the covers and tucking her in. Prepared to sleep on his couch, he'd taken a blanket and pillow to the living room. Yet within a few minutes, he heard her call his name. She'd awoken, disoriented.

He'd rushed into the room, offering soothing words, and she begged him to stay with her, to just hold her. After everything she'd been through, he wasn't going anywhere.

He was greeted with a contented sigh as he held her in his arms and she fell back to sleep. It had been completely innocent the night before, but as Ethan looked at her in the light of the morning, his feelings weren't so innocent anymore.

How would things have been different if his father hadn't walked in on them all those years ago? Would they have actually consummated their attraction?

He shook his head. He was acting like such a fool then. He didn't see what was right in front of him, and even if they had been intimate, he probably would have felt terribly guilty for his betrayal to Gwen.

Not anymore, though.

He loved Theresa more than life itself. He wanted to be with her desperately, but he would wait until she was certain of what she wanted.

He thought of the night they'd danced under the stars on her deck a few months ago. They'd lowered their defenses, letting their feelings seep through years of built-up walls. When she'd turned to him and invited him to stay, he'd been more than willing to do it. Everything that he'd known, everything that he'd become, he was willing to give up at that moment just to have an instant with her.

It didn't happen that night, but Ethan still thought of it. How could he not?

The longing he felt for her was intense, like nothing he'd ever known before. Yet he knew that it was about more than the physical. Yes, she was a beautiful, desirable woman. Any man could clearly see that. But it was her inner beauty that shined through. She could find joy in the simplest of things: puddle jumping, a day spent in the park, pulling practical jokes, throwing snowballs, eating ice cream, finding shapes in the clouds, looking at babies. She made him feel so _alive!_

But she was also making him feel some other things at the moment as he looked at her lying so innocently next to him.

_Get a grip._

Trying to make as little movement as possible, he rolled out of bed, having decided that a cold shower would do him some good.

Theresa yawned and stretched her sore muscles as she heard the opening of a drawer. Lazily opening her eyes, she saw Ethan standing before his dresser, going through it, clad in only a towel around his waist. His hair was still wet, as was his back which glistened with water.

She would have preferred to wake up in his arms, but this show was almost as good. She licked her lips, taking in the sight of him.

He was gorgeous.

Her sigh made him freeze. He hesitantly turned to look at her, clothes in his arms.

"Good morning, Handsome," she said, managing a small smile. She looked at him through veiled lashes, he noted.

Then it hit him. She was checking him out.

He felt an uncharacteristic flush rise to his cheeks. He'd been in such a hurry to get to the shower, he hadn't even thought about grabbing clothes to change into. When he realized what he'd done, he wasn't too worried. After all, she'd seemed to be so deeply asleep, he imagined he wouldn't wake her. Yet there she was, a smile on her face, a sultry tone in her voice, most definitely checking out his assets.

"Hey, Beautiful," he replied. "How do you feel?"

"I feel _very _glad to see you," she said as her eyes moved from his handsome face to the wide expanse of his shoulders, down his chest, and to his narrow waist. "Don't I get a good morning kiss?"

His eyes widened. Did she have any idea of what she was doing to him?

She flung the covers back, and he could see the too-large sweats of his she wore. The collar of the sweatshirt she wore had fallen down her to reveal one of her bare shoulders. He found her to be incredibly sexy.

"Absolutely," he said, "after I put some clothes on."

"What's wrong?" she asked teasingly.

"Around you, my self-control is positively non-existent."

"I guess that makes two of us," she said with a sigh as she watched him leave the bedroom with an armful of clothes.

A few minutes later, Ethan returned to his bedroom to find that she'd fallen back asleep. He smoothed her hair and lightly kissed her forehead. _Rest, my love. _

Walking back through his apartment, Ethan opened the front door that led into the building's hallway and picked up his morning paper. Unrolling it, he groaned when he saw the headline of _The_ _Harmony Herald_: "Man Dead Following Murder Attempt."

Ethan's eyes quickly scanned the article, and he silently cursed. He normally didn't consider himself a violent person, but he couldn't help but feel that the man got what he deserved. How could he help but think otherwise? When he considered that this man intended to rape and murder Theresa, he could not muster any sympathy for him.

It just made him uneasy when he thought that their nightmare might not be over. If his hunch was correct…..

Ethan sank back onto the sofa and rubbed his eyes. How was it possible that people he knew could be so cruel? To make Theresa think that Chuck was alive? To give her hope like that only to snatch it away in the worst way possible?

Yet it puzzled him as he pieced together what might have been the plan. Ethan could only assume that this person believed that by making Theresa believe Chuck was alive, that would bring her life to a screeching halt and make her steer clear from him. Strangely enough, it was that first phone call that had been partly responsible for bringing them back together. Otherwise, they probably never would have spent time talking through some of the things that had happened. It opened the floodgates.

To go so far as to want Theresa dead, though? Who was to say that this would be the end of the attempts?

No, if it was going to end, Ethan knew he would have to put an end to it, one way or the other. He was never going to let anyone hurt her again.

It was going to be difficult for his family to accept their relationship. He believed his mother would support him no matter what. But Julian and Grandfather, on the other hand…. And Andrew—dear God, Andrew would have a hard time of it. Ethan hated that his brother would be hurt, but also realized that he had his own issues to work out. Ethan couldn't be responsible for him anymore.

Theresa's family would have a hard time of it, too. He and Luis had never gotten along, even after Luis married Sheridan. In fact, they'd _barely_ tolerated each other. Ethan couldn't blame Luis for having his reservations, though. If the situation were reversed, Ethan knew that he'd probably feel the same as Luis. Still, Luis was going to have to let go of his little sister. Miguel, too, would probably be skeptical. Ethan had always thought the young man to be amiable, but he'd seen a different side of Theresa's youngest brother the day before in the hospital.

Then it hit Ethan. They didn't know about the attack! Neither did Chad and Whitney. What if they read about it before being told? He didn't want them to find out that way.

Ethan reached for the phone and quickly dialed the number to Luis and Sheridan's home. No answer.

Walking into the kitchen, he pulled a phone book from one of the drawers. Quickly finding Miguel and Charity's number, he dialed their number. No answer.

"Where is everyone this morning?" he muttered.

Finally, he dialed the number to Chad's apartment. A groggy Chad answered after about five rings. _"Yeah what?"_ he asked, obviously still in the throes of sleep.

"Chad, it's Ethan."

_"No offense, Man, but it's awfully early for me."_

"I know, and I'm sorry. I just needed to tell you something before you heard it from anyone else."

_"Is everything okay?"_ Chad asked, not liking the tone he heard in his friend's voice.

"It is—for now. A man showed up at Theresa's house last night disguised as Chuck. He was going to kill her."

_"Is this a practical joke, man?"_

"I'm being serious," Ethan insisted. "Except for a few bruises, Theresa is alright. She's with me now, but she's asleep."

_"Wait a sec. Theresa is there with you? Are you two just there together or are you together-together?_

Despite the tumult he was feeling, Ethan laughed. "We're together-together."

_"Hot damn! It's 'bout time! So what happened?"_

"I'll tell the whole story soon, but I've got to try to get hold of Resa's family. If they read the morning paper…."

"_I gotcha. Thanks for lettin' me know. I'm sure Whitney will be relieved, too."_

"Speaking of Whitney, is she there with you?"

Chad looked at the woman lying next to him. _"Sure is. Why do you ask?"_

"I need her help with something. Could I speak with her really quickly?"

Chad shrugged before waking her and handing the phone to her.

* * *

_"I love you, Theresa," Chuck said softly as he looked to her sitting next to him on the couch of her New York apartment. _

_Theresa didn't know what to say as she looked at Chuck. His hazel eyes were searching hers, waiting for some kind of response. She felt as though her words were trapped in her throat._

_"You don't have to say anything back. I just wanted to let you know."_

_She reached out and touched his face. "I do love you, Chuck."_

_"But."_

_"No," she said emphatically. "No buts. I love you, Chuck Wilson. I love you."_

_Chuck shook his head. "Is he always going to have a piece of your heart?" _

_"What are you talking about?" Theresa asked._

_"Ethan Crane. That's what holds you back, isn't it? Lo-Fitz, sometimes you get this far away look in your eyes, and I know you're thinking about him."_

_Theresa felt the color rise to her cheeks. She'd distanced herself from Harmony and all those who lived there, but sometimes she couldn't help but wonder. What if things had somehow turned out differently? How might her life be different? _

_It made her feel ashamed of herself. She had the love of the most wonderful man in the world, but she still found herself thinking of things that would never be. What was wrong with her?_

_She had the perfect life with Chuck. There were no secrets, no lies, no doubts. He accepted her, with her faults and all. They enjoyed each other's company, embarked on new adventures constantly. She _did _love him. _

_Yet there were so many things from her past that she wished she could change. She wished that she hadn't disappointed her mother, Luis, and Ethan—for that matter. Seeing the looks of hurt on their faces had been difficult to swallow. She would never forget it. _

_Wasn't it only natural that she would think of Ethan from time to time? After all, he had been a big part of her life…_

_"Please don't ever doubt that I'm where I want to be—with you. When I think of Ethan, it only makes me realize that what I have with you is so good, Chuck. I did love him. You already know that. But the love I had for him was blind and unrealistic. What I have with you is real, and it is anchored in something solid. You are my compass. When I'm lost, I need only to look to you."_

_"Don't you see that I don't want to be your compass, Theresa? I want to be that blind, unrealistic love. That type of love doesn't go away."_

_Theresa stood, turning away from him, looking out the window. Suddenly, it seemed as though the room melted away. She turned to look at him, and she found him there standing in her beach house. _

_"You took off my ring," he said pointedly._

_She looked down at her bare left hand and touched her fingers. She'd worn the ring for so long, it had almost become part of her. But she had finally taken it off, determined to go on with her life. _

_It was time. _

_"I can't keep hoping for something that never will be."_

_"Why not? You kept hoping for a life with Ethan."_

_"It was _never_ my intention to even see Ethan again, let alone try to make a life with him. You have to know that!"_

_"All I know is that I want what is due me. I want you, Theresa."_

_The expression on his face was harsh. Theresa blinked hard. _

_Wait a second…he didn't even look like himself anymore! It wasn't even Chuck anymore. Who was this?_

_"Time to give me what I want."_

_"No! Get away from me!"_

_"Oh, we'll never be finished with each other," the man said as he grabbed her arm. _

"Theresa. Theresa, wake up," Ethan said soothingly as he sat on the bed and touched her face.

"No… Get away from me…," she mumbled. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Ethan felt his heart clench. That she was still dreaming of something terrible was obvious to him. "Theresa, it's Ethan. Wake up, baby."

She jerked awake, her eyes focusing on him. He looked so concerned.

She sat up, clinging to him. The sobs escaped her throat freely, and he enveloped her in his arms, determined that she would never be alone again.

"It seemed so real," she choked out as she finally pulled away from him. "I'm so glad that you're here."

"I wouldn't be anywhere else," he replied softly.

She swallowed hard. "God, I'm a mess! He's gone, Ethan. Chuck's really gone."

"I'm sorry, Resa."

"Sometimes I dream of him," she said sheepishly. "Usually good things, happy memories."

"But not today?"

She shook her head. "Not today. It was him—and then it wasn't."

"After what happened last night, that's understandable."

"It just makes me so angry that someone would play with me like that. It scares me, too," she admitted.

He took her hands in his and lightly kissed them. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I promise. And we're going to get to the bottom of this."

"I believe you," she said. "Ethan, I can only think of two people who hate me enough to do something like this."

"Rebecca or Gwen?" he asked.

She nodded.

He groaned. "I had the same thought. I blame myself. Rebecca has always been underhanded, and I always knew that she would do anything for her daughter. For some reason, I still don't want to think that Gwen had anything to do with what happened last night. Then again I never thought Gwen capable of the things she's done. If I hadn't let things get this far…if I would've believed in you when I should have. God, Theresa, there are so many things I want to say to you. So many things we need to talk about."

"I know we have so many things to talk about, but Ethan, please know that I don't blame you for any of this! We can't control other people's choices. Only our own."

"Things aren't going to be easy. With Gwen and the baby…"

"I would never ask you to turn your back on your child, Ethan. Never."

"I know, but it does scare me. She's always going to be in our lives, always there, always trying to undermine us."

Theresa closed her eyes and pulled Ethan close. "It scares me, too, Ethan. And I won't lie—it makes me feel sad. Maybe I'm selfish, but when I think back to how you and I talked about having a family…." Her voice trailed off. "I guess I just imagined that things would be very different for us.

"But the one thing I'm not going to do is second guess _us. _Situations might change, but the one thing that has remained constant is the fact that I love you, Ethan. No one can take that away from me."

Ethan swallowed hard. How did he get so lucky? "You are amazing."

She pulled away from him and poked him playfully in the chest. "That's right, Mr. Crane, and you don't you forget it!"

He was relieved to see that her spirits were back up. "I'm sure you could find a way to remind me," he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

"What did you have in mind?" she asked coyly.

"Something along the lines of a good morning kiss that I never officially got from you," he replied.

She leaned back on the pillows, pulling him down with her. "I think that can be arranged," she said with a smile.

His mouth came down on hers, taking absolute possession. She parted her lips, and his tongue swept inside to mate with hers.

She sighed. His kisses were so intimate, so all-consuming.

_She loved kissing him. _

Her hands found their way around his neck as she clung to him. She'd remained rather passive, letting him feel his way to her. No longer. She started kissing him back, her tongue rubbing against his, slowly at first, then more boldly.

Ethan couldn't get enough of her. He could feel her breasts pressing against his chest through the material of both their shirts. It drove him crazy. He pulled her even closer, cupping his hands behind her neck and angling her head to one side so that his tongue could make a deeper penetration. His mouth slanted over hers and over again, tasting her, teasing her, tempting her.

He never wanted to stop.

Theresa felt warm, feverish, all over. Being so close to Ethan was heavenly.

Her hands ran down his back until she reached the hem of his shirt. Dipping under his shirt, she ran her nails up his back. It was what she'd wanted to do since she'd seen him earlier that morning clad in nothing but a towel. He moaned against her mouth, and she was mesmerized by him.

She never wanted to stop.

The kiss had gotten out of hand in a matter of seconds, Ethan realized as he pulled away from her. He knew he needed to be gentle with her and not take advantage. She'd been through so much, and they'd only just found their way back to one another.

"You are dangerous," he said spellbound by her. His breathing was shallow, definitely not helped any by the throbbing pain he felt.

"So are you," she replied, equally breathless.

The sound of the doorbell broke the tension between them. Ethan grudgingly slid off the bed. She followed him as he walked into the living room and into the small entry way.

Ethan looked through the peephole and saw Luis and Miguel standing outside.

"It's your brothers," Ethan said to Theresa.

"I guess it's a good thing that we didn't get too carried away," she said quietly. She dreaded seeing them, knowing that they would be their usual selves. Caring, yet overbearing. She wasn't sure she was ready to deal with it. Yet what choice did she have?

Ethan turned the locks and opened the door.

"Luis, Mig—"

Ethan barely even saw Luis's fist coming toward his face before it made contact with him.

"What have you done to my sister, Crane?" Luis demanded angrily.


	73. Chapter 73

**Chapter Seventy-Three: "Eyes Wide Open"**

Theresa watched in horror as she saw her brother's fist make contact with Ethan's face. She felt sick. _Horribly sick_.

Ethan was surprised by the strike, but managed to stand his ground. Theresa saw the clenching of his jaw and fists and the anger that shot through his eyes. How he managed to contain himself, she wasn't sure.

"What the hell was that, Luis?" Ethan demanded angrily.

Luis ignored him. "Get your things, Theresa. We're leaving," Luis instructed as he looked to his sister.

Theresa took Ethan's hand. "I'm not going anywhere with you, Luis. How _dare _you come here, assault Ethan, and start making demands of me!"

Luis reached out and took Theresa by the arm. "Listen, we need to talk. This guy isn't what you think he is," Luis replied through clenched teeth.

"Let go of her, Luis," Ethan said. His voice was low and amazingly calm, but his tone denoted the seriousness of his words.

"You want more where that came from?"

"Cheap shots don't count," Ethan said. "Anytime you want to face me like a real man, I'll take you on."

"That's enough from both of you," Miguel said, interceding. "Luis, this is not what we came for."

Luis turned back to his little brother. "But if it weren't for this bastard, nothing would have happened at all. Our sister almost got killed because of him! His family destroys everything it touches, and I'll be damned if I let him destroy Theresa!"

Theresa felt a surge of indignation flow through her. "Get your facts straight, Luis! Ethan _saved_ my life! I wouldn't be here for you to stupidly argue over if it weren't for him!" Theresa said pulling away from him and moving away from the door. She looked to Miguel. "You've been talking to him about your suspicions, haven't you?"

"I was right about this Chuck thing being a hoax. Who's to say that I'm not right about who is behind it?"

"We already think we know," Ethan interjected.

"I guess you didn't have to look very far from home, did you?" Miguel spat out.

Miguel's words struck Ethan. He wasn't used to such zealousness from Theresa's younger brother. He would expect such a reaction from Luis. But from Miguel? Not in a million years! Yet he was starting to realize that there was more to Miguel Lopez-Fitzgerald than he'd ever been privy to knowing.

"Rebecca and Gwen are not going to get away with this, I assure you."

"The possibilities are boundless, aren't they? I hadn't really thought of Gwen and her mother wanting to get at Theresa, but why not just add them to our list, too?" Miguel said. "You know, T., you sure can pick them."

Theresa looked at Miguel, hurt evident in her features. "I love Ethan. I always have. If you can't accept that, then you can leave."

"You know, believe it or not, this isn't even about Ethan. Not in the long run," Luis said. "This is about his family. Though I'm sure that if given some time, Ethan will show his true colors. In fact, I think he already is. He is a user, Theresa, just like his father and grandfather. Sis, this is about what they did to Papa, and what they've tried to do to you."

"And Kay," Miguel quietly added.

"What are you talking about?" Ethan asked. "There's never been any proof that my family had anything to do with your father's disappearance! I'm very sorry that it happened, but don't you think it's time to move on? This is getting ridiculous! And going further into the realm of the ridiculous is this notion that somehow my family had something to do with Kay Bennett's death. If a blizzard hits Harmony next week, are you going to blame that on us, too?"

Miguel looked to his sister. "Theresa, you have to know that they had something to do with—"

"I want you both to leave," she said, her tone resolute.

"I'm not leaving you here with him," Luis replied, equally stubborn. "And if you cared about her at all, you would know this is not the place for her to be," he said turning to Ethan.

"Maybe if we just sit down and talk this out—" Ethan began.

"There's nothing to talk about," Miguel replied.

"What is this?" Theresa cried out. "Since when do you and Luis get to determine what I do with my life? It's _my _life! Not yours, Miguel. Not your, Luis. Not even yours, Ethan. It's _mine_. _I_ choose what _I _want to do!"

Luis shook his head in exasperation. "Then please help us to understand a few things."

"What is there to understand?" Theresa asked crossly.

"How could you not let us know what was going on? We had to find out about it in the newspaper."

"Luis, Sheridan just had the baby. And it was late, Miguel. I didn't want to wake the girls. I wasn't going to call either of you when we had everything under control."

"And I did try to get hold of both of you early this morning," Ethan pointed out.

"Are you okay, Theresa?" Luis finally asked as he noticed his sister's bruises.

"I'm fine—thanks to Ethan. If he hadn't come back to my house last night…."

Luis eyed Ethan suspiciously. The more he found out about Sheridan's nephew, the less he liked. Oh, he'd been willing at one point to try to put the past behind him, but when Ethan continually hurt his sister, how was he supposed to let go? "Why _did_ you go back, Ethan? I would think you would want to spend time with Gwen—especially now that she's carrying your child. Running out on your responsibilities?"

"I would _never _turn my back on my child. But at the same time, I'm not walking away from your sister, either. Through my own stupidity, I let myself be manipulated into giving her up. Not again. _Never again_."

Theresa put her arms around Ethan's waist. "For better or for worse, we're together. When we spoke a few weeks ago, I thought you said you could accept that, for my sake."

"Things change."

"I'm telling you right now, Luis. Don't push me. I love you very much, but I'm not a child, and I'm not _your_ child. I have loved Ethan all of my life. I am going to make a life with him whether you approve or not. I would rather have your approval—or at least your understanding—but if I don't, that isn't going to change my mind."

Ethan looked at Theresa, realizing what she was saying. She was willing to give up her family for him. For _him_! He hadn't thought it possible to love her anymore than he already did, but at that moment, his heart was swelling with his love for her, threatening to overflow.

She was the most amazing person he'd ever known.

He felt his heart sink a moment later, though. She would _give up_ her _family _for him. He would be responsible for yet more pain in her life.

"What are you saying?" Luis asked.

"I'm saying that if you force me to choose, you won't like the choice I make."

Her brown eyes met her older brother's. She wanted him to know just how serious she was.

Ethan gently pulled Theresa to the side. Lightly stroking her hair, he said, "You can't give up your family, Theresa. They're too important to you!"

She reached up and touched his hand. She hadn't thought it possible to love him more than she already did, but each day—each moment—she felt like she was given ten more reasons to love him. He wasn't perfect—nobody could be—but he was perfect for her.

"But I'm not going to give you up, Ethan. Not again." She turned back to her brothers. "Think about what I said, and when you're ready to talk—not dictate—come back."

"I love you, Theresa," Luis said.

"I know, but you have to let me live my own life."

"Let's just give her some time, Luis," Miguel said. He knew the look on his sister's face, and knew she wasn't going to back down. It would be best to get Luis out of there before he did or said something that he would regret later.

Luis turned to Miguel and nodded slightly. Miguel turned and left; Luis followed suit, though reluctantly.

Theresa let out the breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding. Looking to Ethan, her hard expression softened. "I can't believe Luis did that! Are you alright?"

Ethan rubbed his jaw. He felt like chasing after Luis and letting him have it for distressing Theresa and for putting her in the position he did. But now wasn't the time or the place. Theresa needed him.

He managed a small smile. "Funny. I was just going to ask you the same thing."

"I can handle anything if I have you by my side," she said emphatically.

He pulled her close, and she rested her head against his chest, the sound of his heart soothing her, comforting her. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she sighed.

"I'll never be anywhere else," he assured her before kissing the top of her head.

A knock on the door came a moment later, eliciting a groan from Theresa. "I don't know if I can handle my brothers again."

"Maybe it's not them," Ethan said with a twinkle in his eye.

"What have you been up to, Mr. Crane?" Theresa asked with a smile.

"Just a little surprise."

He walked to the door, peered through the peephole, and announced, "And the surprise is here."

Pulling open the door, Theresa saw Chad and Whitney standing in the hallway, arms loaded down with packages. Whitney rushed in, set down the packages, and embraced her friend. "Sweetie, I was so worried about you when I heard! Are you alright?"

Theresa smiled. It was so good to see Whit. Their friendship had endured for many years, and Whitney Russell was a source of comfort and guidance for Theresa. "I didn't mean for you to be worried. I'm fine. Just a little sore."

"Thank God! When Ethan called this morning and told us, I thought my heart was going to stop."

Chad chuckled. "Whit ain't kiddin'. She latched onto my arm so tightly, she was cuttin' off the circulation." He shook Ethan's hand. "Glad you were there, Eth. I woulda hated to see what woulda happened if you hadn't been."

"That makes two of us," Theresa said as Ethan put an arm around her waist. She looked around her, packages littering the walk space. "What is all this?"

"Well, Ethan told me that you weren't able to get into your house to get your things."

Theresa groaned. "With the exception of Serendipity," she said pointing to the kitty who was halfway hiding underneath the leather sofa.

"He didn't want to leave you alone, so he sent over his credit card and off Chad and I went on a shopping spree—for you. Seeing as how I have _exceptional _taste…."

"_You_ have exceptional taste?" Chad asked with mock indignation. He turned to Theresa and announced, "I'll have you know that this lady would be lost without me. We woulda come back with all kinds of hideous things."

"Don't listen to him, Theresa," Whitney said as she shot Chad a dirty look. "We both know better."

Theresa felt tears sting her eyes. Her friends were the best, and so was Ethan. "Thank you so much, you two!" she said giving Chad and Whitney hugs.

She turned back to Ethan, stood on her toes, and whispered in his ear, "You are too much! I love you, Ethan Crane."

Her lips lightly brushed against his. Being near him was like being in heaven.

Whitney cleared her throat, reminding her friends of her presence and Chad's. A part of her was still uneasy at seeing Ethan and Theresa together again. How long would it last before something terrible happened as it invariably always did?

Chad looked to her and winked. Whitney felt some of the tension leave her body. She and Chad had a long talk before they came over. She was determined to give her support to Theresa, even if she had reservations.

"You two are gonna start a fire if you aren't careful," Chad said, smiling ear to ear.

"I could think of worse ways to go," Ethan replied with a smile.

"Come on, Theresa. I want to show you all the things we picked out."

Theresa squealed with glee, taking a handful of bags and leading Whitney back to the bedroom.

Whitney's eyes widened when she saw the bed, still unmade. She took note that there were _two_ pillows. Theresa hastily threw the covers back over the bed before putting the bags on it.

She looked back at her friend and saw the bemused expression. "It's not what you think," Theresa said quickly.

"You and Ethan didn't… _you know_."

"No, we didn't…. _you know_," Theresa replied with exasperation.

Whitney walked to the entrance of the bedroom and caught a glimpse of Ethan and Chad sitting on the leather sofa before she closed the door. "But you've already been tempted. I can see that just from watching you and Ethan together."

Theresa felt a blush rise to her cheeks. "I love him very much."

"I know you do, but you have to promise me one thing, Theresa. It's very, very important."

"What is it?" Theresa asked.

"You have to promise me that you won't shave your legs."

"What?" Theresa asked with a laugh of disbelief.

"Whatever you do, don't shave your legs."

"Why?"

"I can assure you that if you don't shave your legs, you won't be attempted to—well, _you know_."

Theresa shook her head defiantly. "Maybe I _want_ to shave my legs."

Whitney sat on the edge of the bed. "Does this mean….?"

"I'm not saying that it means _anything_," Theresa replied. She took a deep breath and sat next to her friend. "I know you worry about me. I know that coming here hasn't been easy for you, but I love you for it. At the same time, I love Ethan with all of my heart. I don't know what—if anything—will happen between us. But I'm twenty-four years old, Whit. Those plans that I made for myself when I was a little girl don't necessarily apply anymore."

"You _have_ been thinking about this," Whitney said.

"How could I not? Ethan has always had a piece of my heart. Even when things were at their worst, even when I thought I would never see him again, I never completely let go. I realize that now. I had this dream …."

"What happened?"

"Well, it's a long story, but it reminded me of the fact that even when I was so happy with Chuck, there was still a part of me that longed for Ethan. God, I feel awful even saying it! I wouldn't trade the time I spent with Chuck for anything in the world. I will always love him. _Always_."

"Yet if things had been different, you would never have been with Chuck in the first place."

Theresa nodded. "If he were still here, Whit, if the accident had never happened, I know I would be happy with him. There is no doubt in my mind. He was so amazing!" she sighed. "When I saw that man last night—before I knew it was an imposter—I was ecstatic! I can't even describe all the things that ran through my mind. I wanted it to be him so badly!"

"But you and Ethan…"

"I couldn't have given Ethan up, Whitney. I realized that when the man asked me to leave everything behind and go with him. Looking back, I guess he was going to take me away to kill me. I didn't know that at the time, though. I thought of you and Chad, my family, my business, but most of all I thought of Ethan. I knew I couldn't leave him.

"I'm telling you all of this because I want you to understand that this is not one of my daydreams or one of my whims. I know that Ethan and I will have a tough road ahead of us. We're already starting to see that with my family, but I'm putting aside the doubts. My doubts and Ethan's are what separated us in the first time around. I won't let that happen again!"

"Wow."

Theresa squeezed her friend's hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sermonize. I just want you to know that I _know_ what I'm doing."

"I believe you, Theresa, and I will support you in anything you decide. I just want you to be happy."

"Ethan makes me happy, Whit. He truly does."

"He loves you a lot," Whitney said, some of her concerns fading.

Theresa felt butterflies. "Yeah. He does. So, what did you bring me?"

"A little bit of everything. Undies, casual clothes, a couple of dresses, nightgowns, some shoes. Let me tell you; spending someone else's money is a lot of fun. Naturally, Chad and I disagreed about some things, but I think you'll be pleased overall."

"I'm sure everything you picked out is just perfect!" Theresa said with glee as she opened one of the bags and pulled out a plaid flannel nightgown. She stood and held it up to herself. It was ankle length, with long sleeves and a high neck. "Well, I guess I would be safe not to shave my legs if I wore this. He wouldn't want to touch me anyway."

"Theresa!"

"Well, it's true! It looks like something Grandmother Aislinne might have worn, God rest her soul."

"Someday, you'll be thanking me," Whitney said with a smile.

"We'll see about that," Theresa replied as she set the gown on the bed.

Whitney opened one of the bags and pulled out a pair of blue jeans and a ribbed knit shirt. "Better?"

"Much," Theresa replied as she took them from her hands. "Not that Ethan's sweats aren't comfortable, but they're a bit too comfortable."

"They look like they might fall off," Whitney commented.

Theresa quickly tried the casual clothes on, as well as some others that Whitney had brought over. She hung up the dresses.

"How long are you planning on staying here, Theresa?" Whitney asked as she watched her friend walk to Ethan's closet and rummage for hangers.

"To be honest with you, I don't know. I'm not moving in with Ethan, if that's what you're asking. Of course, right now the idea of going back to my house—even when it's okayed by the police—isn't too appealing. It makes me angry when I think that I can't even feel safe in my own home anymore."

"Do the police have any leads on who might've sent that guy?"

"Nothing official yet, but Ethan and I have our suspicions."

"Who are you thinking?" Theresa looked at Whitney, and her eyes said it all. "You're thinking Gwen, aren't you?"

"I don't want to think that badly of her, but after everything that has happened, I don't know what else to think," Theresa admitted.

"Just promise me that you'll be careful."

"Believe me. Our eyes are wide open."

Theresa picked up another bag and put her hand in it to pull out the item. She was met by something with a silky texture. Pulling out the item, she gasped. It was a beautiful, ivory colored nightgown. Long and flowing, the material seemed to glide between Theresa's fingers. Holding it up by its tiny spaghetti straps, Theresa smiled. It was very sexy but very classy at the same time.

Whitney's eyes widened when she saw the gown. "I told him to put it back," she hissed. "CHAD HARRIS!"

The girls heard Chad's laughter from the other room. Chad and Ethan soon opened the door to the bedroom.

"I see you found my surprise for Ethan."

"You mean for Theresa," Whitney corrected as she took the gown from Theresa's hand and threw it at Chad.

Chad shook his head. "Nope. This one was definitely for Ethan's sake." He turned to his friend. "You can thank me later."

Ethan smiled and looked to Theresa who smiled back at him. His heart skipped a beat. She was beautiful. _So beautiful_. The way her expressive eyes sparkled with happiness took his breath away.

_I love you_, she mouthed.

_I love you, too, Resa._

* * *

_HARMONY. One man is dead from an accidental self-inflicted stabbing following an attempted murder. Last night about 10 p.m., an unidentified man approached the home of Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald, 24, Harmony resident and owner of Serendipity, an upscale boutique located in the uptown area. Details are sketchy, but unnamed sources say that the man was disguised as Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald's late fiancé, Charles Wilson, III, with an elaborate and realistic mask. Once Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald let him in, she discovered that the man was, in fact, an imposter._

_Following a scuffle between Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald and the intruder, Ethan Crane, 29, heir to the Crane Empire, appeared at Lopez-Fitzgerald's home and interceded. Police say the intruder pulled a knife on Mr. Crane, but lost his balance, impaling himself with his own weapon. He died immediately on the scene._

_Paramedics and police arrived at the scene moments later. Mr. Crane and Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald were shaken, but unhurt._

_The identity of the intruder was not available at press time. "It's the darndest thing I've seen, and I've seen a lot of weird things around here," commented Hal Farris, a paramedic who received the call to go to the Lopez-Fitzgerald house, about the strange circumstances surrounding this case._

_When asked for a comment about the assailant's motive, Harmony's chief of police, Sam Bennett, said, "I'm not prepared to discuss that aspect [of the case]. Just rest assured that everything is being done to get to the bottom of this case."_

_Attempts to reach Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald and Mr. Crane for comment were unsuccessful._

It was the third time that Andrew Crane had read the article. Had his missed anything? His eyes scanned it again, disbelief rising within him.

It just didn't make any sense! Someone disguised as Chuck Wilson tried to kill Theresa?

Then it hit.

The phone calls. They'd been fake. For what purpose? They'd certainly rattled her and, in a sense, forced her to put her life on hold, but to what end?

Who would want to do something like that to his Beauty?

_No, she's not your Beauty. She never really was_, he reminded himself.

He closed his eyes and felt anger rise within him. She must have been so scared—so utterly terrified. To go from being happy, as he knew she must have been, to having her life threatened. If not for Ethan.….

Drew didn't like the fact that Ethan and Theresa shared a closeness. He never would, but at that moment, he could not begrudge his brother his just due. For once, any praise heaped upon Ethan would be legitimate and worthwhile.

_But who would do this? _

His mind kept drifting back to that question.

Oh, he had a pretty good idea.

* * *

"Gwen, are you ever going to come out of there?" Rebecca Hotchkiss asked as she stood outside of the bathroom which was adjacent to her daughter's bedroom.

From inside the door, Rebecca could make out a faint curse. "Leave me alone, Mother!" she finally mustered.

"But I'm your mother, Gwen. I want to be with you through this. Just as soon as you're sure you're done vomiting, that is."

Rebecca heard the flushing of the toilet and then the running of the sink. A moment later, a pale Gwen opened the door.

"There, there. Feel better now?" Rebecca asked when she saw her daughter.

"No! I feel as though my stomach has a mind all of its own," Gwen replied. She'd never imagined morning sickness would happen in the afternoon. She'd spent the better part of the day in and out of the bathroom throwing up. It was nearly impossible to keep anything down.

"Turnabout is fair play," Rebecca said as she clasped her hands together.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, did you honestly think that pregnancy was a walk in the park for me? I'll have you know that I had to skip three very important parties because of you—because you made me feel so woozy."

Gwen glared at her mother. "Get out of my face," she huffed before flopping down on the bed.

"Not so fast," Rebecca said. She walked to her daughter's dresser and pulled off a newspaper she'd brought in. "I set this out for you this morning, but you obviously haven't gotten around to reading it."

"Obviously," Gwen groaned.

Rebecca handed the paper to Gwen and said with a hint of glee in her voice, "You've got to read this!"

"Mother, I—"

"Read it, Gwen!"

Gwen was startled by her mother's change in tone. She unfolded it and was immediately greeted with the headline: Man Dead Following Murder Attempt.

"So?"

"Read on, Gwen."

Rebecca watched her daughter carefully. The further along Gwen got in the article, the wider her eyes grew.

"This is—this is _terrible_!" Gwen exclaimed.

Rebecca rolled her eyes impatiently. "The only thing terrible is that the man did not succeed. If only Ethan's timing had been off."

Gwen's eyes darted to her mother's face. "What do you know about this, Mother?"

"As much as the next person," she replied.

"Theresa must have been so scared," Gwen said. "Not that I don't think she deserves something, but this-this is a bit much! Are you sure you don't know about this?"

"You know I would do anything for you, Gwen. There are others, too, who see things my way."

Gwen held her hand up. "Don't say anymore. I don't want to know."

"If you aren't going to do for yourself, someone has to help things along."

"I am having Ethan's baby. That helps things along quite a bit."

Rebecca touched her daughter's forehead. "But that's not necessarily true, is it?"

"It's not necessarily untrue," Gwen replied as she lay her head on the pillow of her bed.

"But you don't know for sure. What about that man? What was his name? Tim? Ted?"

"Tom," Gwen supplied.

"Right. Tom. Could be his."

"It's not," Gwen hissed. "This is Ethan's baby. I don't even want to hear you suggest otherwise!"

Rebecca sighed. "You've already blown it, Gwen. Signing those divorce papers…what were you thinking?"

Gwen closed her eyes, hoping to block her mother's grating voice. "Letting go will bring him back to me_. It will_."

"Go ahead and tell yourself that, but in my day, the only thing a divorce ever brought was _a divorce_." Rebecca scratched her chin. "It looks like our little Terrorcita is moving in on your territory. Why did she have to go and get herself rescued? Now Ethan is going to feel all protective of her. He's also going to be asking a lot of questions."

Gwen pulled the pillow over her head. "I can't deal with this right now."

Was her mother right? Had it been a mistake to cut him free? She'd hoped it would make her look magnanimous. She and Ethan had even had a civil conversation a few days ago following the signing of the papers. Hope had risen within her again. How could it not? Ethan had been a part of her life for so long, and they'd actually talked to one another the way they used to.

Of course, that was before her big announcement.

She wasn't sure what she'd expected. Actually, that wasn't true. A small part of her had believed that somehow Ethan would hold her, soothe her, tell her that everything would be alright, that they would make it through the pregnancy together, that they would raise the child together.

_But no_. He was too busy playing someone else's savior, savior to a woman Gwen hated.

It was so hard to be alone, but what choice did she have for now?

No, her mother was wrong. Ethan would change his mind. It might take awhile, but he would. Once he saw their child, he wouldn't be able to stay away.

* * *

"How did it go?" Charity asked her husband when she saw him come through the backdoor.

Miguel merely shook his head.

"She _is_ alright, isn't she?"

"She's fine, but Luis and I blew it."

Charity shook her head. "You went after Ethan, didn't you?"

"Luis more so than me. I just couldn't hold my tongue, though. Not when I know what the Cranes are capable of!"

Charity put her arms around her husband. "You're forgetting that Ethan isn't like the others."

"We've already been through this. When push comes to shove, his true colors will come out. I just don't want my sister to get caught in the crossfire in the meantime. I am more convinced than ever that either Alistair or Julian had something to do with this whole Chuck hoax. Think about it…every time one of the Lopez-Fitzgeralds comes near a Crane, they go on the offensive. Always trying to stop us in our tracks, always issuing veiled threats."

"Your mother worked for them for many years, Miguel. They were good to her, weren't they?"

"Well, Mrs. Crane was. The others…" his voice trailed off.

"This is about more than Theresa, isn't it?" Charity asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "The last few days, you've been so distant. Last night when you were looking at that letter, it was like I didn't even exist."

Miguel touched his young wife's face. "You and the girls are my world, Charity. You _know_ that."

"But there's a lot I don't know, isn't there, Miguel? When are you going to tell me? When are you going to stop holding everything in? I want to help you. I need to help you! But I can't if you don't trust me with this."

"Where are the girls?"

"With Sally Peters and Samantha," Charity replied.

"Good," Miguel said taking her hand and leading her to the living room, "because this is going to take awhile."

* * *

"Let me just grab my jacket, Theresa, and I'll be ready," Ethan called from the bedroom.

Theresa stood in the living room. She was feeling energetic after taking a shower and changing into clothes that actually fit.

It had taken some doing, but she had convinced Ethan to take her grocery shopping. His cupboards were practically bare with the exception of macaroni and cheese and peanut butter. Neither of those items was very appealing to her at the moment.

"Okay," she called back.

Suddenly, she heard a light knock on the door. "Grand Central Station," she muttered as she walked to the small hallway. Standing on her tiptoes, she looked out the peephole.

Smiling, she opened the door.

"Hello, Beauty," Drew said, greeting her with a smile and flowers. "I tried to call, but I kept getting a busy signal."

"How did you know where to find me?" she asked pulling him into a hug.

"I just knew," he replied simply. Where else would she be but with Ethan, after all?

"It's been crazy around here. We took the phone off the hook because the reporters kept calling. It wasn't something we wanted to deal with," she said with a sigh before looking at the flowers he held in his hands. "Are these for me?"

"How'd you guess?"

"A girl know these things," Theresa replied with a smile. "They're beautiful."

"Just like you."

"Drew," she warned.

"Old habits die hard," he said with a chuckle.

She took him by the hand and led him further inside the apartment, closing the door behind them.

"We'll have to work on breaking them," she said, giving his hand a light squeeze.

Ethan came from the bedroom. "…didn't know what I did with it for a second there." He stopped on his tracks when he saw his brother with Theresa.

"What are you doing here?"


	74. Chapter 74

**Author's Note: **We're coming close to the end of this (not-so) little journey. Only one more chapter to go. Thanks for continuing to read through all the twists and turns. And for those of you who've chosen to review, I truly do appreciate it. **  
**

* * *

**Chapter Seventy-Four: "Throwing Stones"**

"It's so great to see you, too, Ethan," Drew replied wryly, feeling Ethan's glare upon him.

"You didn't answer my question," Ethan stated as he approached Theresa and Andrew. "What are you doing here?"

Hearing the tone in Ethan's voice, Theresa felt nervousness wash over her. She looked to Ethan, pleading with her eyes for him to be civil. She felt his hands reach around her waist. Was this way of marking his 'territory'? she wondered. Either way, she felt increasingly uncomfortable.

"I should think it would be quite obvious why I'm here, Ethan. I came to check on Theresa. Despite your best efforts, we are still friends. When I ran into her yesterday as she was coming from the hospital, she was upset. Then when I opened the paper this morning and saw the headline, I knew that I had to see for myself that she was alright."

"As you can see, Theresa is perfectly fine."

Theresa pulled away from Ethan and glared at the brothers. "Would the both of you stop acting as if I'm not even in the room? I'm not a piece of furniture!"

"Beauty, no one could mistake you for a piece of furniture," Drew replied with an admiring gaze. Theresa felt her cheeks grow hot under his scrutiny.

Ethan sighed, knowing that he'd made Theresa upset. But what was his supposed to do? Invite Andrew into his home as though nothing had ever happened? How could he when Andrew had tried at every opportunity to undermine his relationship with Theresa? He was almost as bad as Gwen! He didn't care about who he hurt. He only cared about what he wanted—and getting it.

"I am _fine_. A little shaken, but it takes more than that to get me down. Besides, I have had Ethan's support through this nightmare. It's meant a lot to me."

"So whatever was bothering you yesterday at the hospital is no longer an issue?" Drew asked.

Drew saw the look that was exchanged between Theresa and Ethan. Apparently, whatever it was that had upset her still held some punch.

Ethan looked to his brother, his blue eyes narrowing. Andrew did this on purpose! Of that, he was convinced. What game was he playing? Was he trying to hurt Theresa? Or was Andrew just trying to make him look bad in Theresa's eyes by dredging up past indiscretions?

"You just couldn't wait, could you?" Ethan asked shaking his head in disbelief.

Drew was taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't feign ignorance, Andrew. This is about Gwen and the baby. You just couldn't wait to come here and rub my nose in it, could you?"

Drew's eyes widened. "Back up a sec. Gwen really _is _having a baby?" He couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing. The idea of Gwen Hotchkiss Crane as a mother bordered on the ridiculous. Drew wasn't convinced that the woman even had an ounce of maternal feeling in her.

"You think this is funny?" Ethan demanded. "Don't tell me you didn't know."

"Of course I didn't know! I would've jumped on that first thing if I had," Drew pointed out. "I'm just trying to imagine it. Gwen and a baby. Mother and child." He turned to Theresa. "I guess the Golden Boy is a bit tarnished now, isn't he? He's falling back to Earth with the rest of us."

"Don't, Drew. Just don't," Theresa warned.

"Why not? You can't tell me that Ethan doesn't take every opportunity to try to make himself look good at the expense of others. The fact of the matter is that there's no sugar coating this one. Mr. Responsibility, Mr. Saintly screwed up—literally. Of course, he wants to place the blame elsewhere, but I think we all know better."

Years of anger and frustration spilled out of Ethan. "How many times have _you _done something to embarrass the family and ducked out? How many times have you excused your bad behavior and poor choices with the 'I'm so misunderstood' speech? How many times have you stabbed the backs of the people who care about you for your own schemes? People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones!"

"Damn. You really think I'm as bad as all that?" Drew asked, his nonchalant tone in direct contrast with his brother's angry tone.

"Yes. The sad thing is that you're proud of it."

"Don't pretend to know what it's like to be me, Golden Boy," Drew shot back, his nonchalant façade crumbling.

Theresa looked from Ethan to Andrew, a look of horror on her countenance. "Please, you two. Just stop. _Please!_ You're brothers! That's a bond that goes deeper than any petty differences."

"Petty differences?" Ethan repeated in disbelief. "Resa, this goes far beyond petty differences."

"For once, Ethan and I agree on something," Drew asserted. "In the grand scheme of things, this argument can't do any more damage than has already been done because we weren't close to begin with. And now I remember why. Ethan is a sanctimonious ass who doesn't have a clue of what it feels like to be on the other side of the fence. He doesn't know what it's like to want something so badly, you'd do anything to get it. How could he? All he's ever wanted, he's had handed to him. When he was—what was it? ah yes—six years old, he wanted a pony. Next day, a pony appeared in the stables. He wanted a baseball team established at school. He lobbied until he got one. He wanted you, Theresa, and look—here you are."

"I love Ethan, Drew. I do."

Ethan nodded. "How I feel for Theresa can't be compared to ponies or baseball, Andrew. And let's not forget that you had the same advantages I had."

"The same advantages, perhaps, but not the same support. I remember when Grandfather used to call you into his office to talk, Ethan. He was genuinely interested in you; what your interests were, what you thought of current events, what you thought of school. The only time I ever got called in to see Grandfather was to receive a reprimand."

"Because of the choices _you_ made. You were never forced into those decisions."

"Speaking of poor decisions, what are you going to do about Gwennie?" Drew asked.

Ethan didn't know what to say.

"Just as I thought." Drew's eyes met Theresa's. "And you let yourself get sucked back in. I thought you told me this was something you weren't going to do again."

Drew was met by a look of hurt in Theresa's eyes.

He knew he was partly responsible for the hurt in her eyes. Why did he allow himself to get carried away in his anger toward Ethan when he knew it would hurt the one he cared most for? Why?

Taking a deep breath, he gently touched Theresa's arm. "Sorry, Beauty, but I have to go."

Theresa held her tongue. She had so many things she wanted to say to Andrew. Somehow, none of them seemed appropriate. Didn't he know he was better than this? Didn't he know that any woman would be lucky to have him? She just couldn't be the one he needed.

Wordlessly, Drew walked to the door, opened it, and strode out into the hall. The door closed behind him, and he leaned against the wall.

Her eyes haunted him. Dark eyes, liquid eyes, full of hurt, full of hope, full of love, full of her soul.

"I've done it again. I've hurt you again."

But there was no way to make it right.

Was there?

After all, everything he said was true. Ethan wasn't what he pretended to be. He had lied to Theresa about his last night with Gwen. He was having a child with another woman.

_Gwen and a baby. _

The thought was just mind blowing to Drew. But that was probably what she'd wanted all along, wasn't it? It shouldn't be so surprising that she'd found a way to make it happen.

Then his own thoughts sank in. _She found a way to make it happen._

His mind drifted back to that day outside the boutique when the man—Tom, if he remembered correctly—approached them. It was obvious, though Gwen tried to deny any acquaintance with the man, that they knew each other.

She did it! _She found a way to make it happen!_

Ethan could possibly be off the hook.

Nope. He wasn't going to let that happen.

Drew shook his head and began to walk down the hall. It was time for Ethan to experience a little miserable payback. As far as Drew was concerned, it couldn't have happened to a better person.

But Theresa didn't deserve the hell Gwen was undoubtedly going to put them through.

Groaning, he turned around and walked back down the hall. Stopping before the door to Ethan's apartment, he knocked on it.

When Theresa opened the door, Drew saw that she was still fighting back tears.

"Couldn't stay away. Not without telling you what I know."

"I'm not interested in what you think you know," Ethan said harshly as he approached them.

"Let's just hear what he has to say," Theresa said soothingly.

Drew rolled his eyes. "You are just determined to shoot yourself in the foot, aren't you? It's about Gwen and the baby she's carrying. It's possible that you aren't the father of Gwen's baby."

Ethan looked at him, confusion reigning supreme over his features. How was it even possible? No, as much as he would like to have Gwen gone from his life, this had to be another one of Andrew's tricks. What was his game? Was he trying to get his hopes up only to pull the rug out from under him once again?

His gaze met Theresa's. Her eyes were wide. He knew that Andrew was raising her hopes, and it made him angry.

"That's impossible. For all of her faults, she's always been faithful to me. I'm the only man she's ever been with."

Drew shook his head and laughed. "You don't know a thing, Ethan."

"And you do?" Ethan asked with incredulity.

"Well, let's just say that I knew what Gwen was about before you even had an inkling." He turned to Theresa. "Remember a few weeks ago when I came to your shop and Gwen was there?"

"Yes," Theresa replied. She couldn't forget, even if she wanted to.

"When she went outside, I followed. We were talking, and there was a man who kept calling the name Theresa. It took me a moment, but I realized he was talking to her."

Theresa felt sick to her stomach. Was Gwen going around pretending that her name was Theresa? What was she trying to do? The whole situation was getting crazier by the minute! "Wait a second. You're saying there was a man calling Gwen by my name?"

"It gets better. Oh, she tried to play it off like he was mistaken, but I recognized that deer in the headlights look of hers. Once she left, I talked to the guy. I realized that they were more than friends. He was pretty angry about the brush off he got."

"You're serious about this, aren't you?" Ethan replied, dumbfounded.

"You know that old saying that truth is stranger than fiction? I think it applies here."

Theresa turned to Ethan and clutched his arms. "Do you know what this means, Ethan? She could have planned this whole thing as a way to trap you! But now we know the truth!" She looked to Drew. Breaking away from Ethan, she impulsively planted a kiss on Drew's cheek. "Thank you, Drew. Thank you _so_ much!"

"We don't know for sure yet. There's still a possibility…"

Theresa sighed. She didn't want to hear it.

Ethan turned away from Theresa and Andrew, a tumult of emotions going through him. How could he have been so stupid? How could he continually let Gwen manipulate him? What was wrong with him? It was bad enough that he'd given Gwen opportunity after opportunity to keep Theresa and him apart, but for him to fall for the oldest trick in the book? And to have actually let Gwen make him feel guilty all those years for having feelings for Theresa? He felt like he was going to be sick.

Drew looked to his brother. Initially, he wasn't thrilled about coming clean with Ethan, but he'd found consolation in the notion that Ethan's ego would be shattered. Yet he hadn't even spilled the best part—that he knew firsthand that Gwen had cheated on him. No, it wouldn't do to say anything of that in front of Theresa. However, seeing the look on his brother's face was not as satisfying as Drew thought it would be.

Ethan swallowed hard, meeting Andrew's gaze. "Thank you."

Drew looked to Theresa. "I didn't do it for you, Ethan." With that, he headed back out the door.

Ethan walked to the sofa, sinking down on it. Leaning forward, with his elbows on his knees, he rubbed his eyes. Everything he thought he knew to be true was crumbling. Just when he thought that nothing else could happen, it always did.

Theresa sat next to him, resting her hand on his back. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"I don't know what I am anymore," Ethan replied. "I have so many mixed emotions about this."

"It's better to know, though, isn't it?"

"Absolutely!" He clenched his jaw in disgust. "How long do you think this went on, Theresa? How long do you think she played me for a fool?"

"I don't have any answers. I still have a hard time balancing everything I know of her." And it was true. As much as Theresa was growing to despise Gwen, there was a good side of her. She'd seen it before. Unfortunately, lately all she and Ethan had been seeing was the despicable side of Gwen, emerging largely from desperation.

"If Andrew hadn't said anything, we would never have known. God, it just makes me so angry that I spent so much time feeling guilty for loving you. She would look at me, Theresa, with tears in her eyes and ask me why I couldn't let you go. _We_ never acted on those feelings because of my wedding vows. Yet all the time, she was off doing whatever the hell _she_ felt like doing!"

Theresa felt her heart drop at hearing the pain and anger in his voice. "Ethan, I know that you and she spent many years together. I can't pretend to understand how what Andrew said must make you feel. If I could take the pain away, I would."

Ethan looked to Theresa, his expression softening. "Don't you know that just having you here with me is the best thing I could ever ask for?"

He reached out, lightly running the pad of his thumb across her lips. "I love you," he said before brushing his lips against hers.

Her heart pounded at his nearness, but almost as soon as the kiss began, it was over.

"I have to go," he said standing.

Theresa's brows were furrowed. "Where? I thought we were going to the store."

"Can it wait until I get back? I just have a few things I need to take care of."

Theresa had a pretty good idea of what those 'few things' entailed. She didn't like the idea of Ethan confronting Gwen when his emotions were so raw. "I wish you would give this some time."

"And let Gwen think she's going to take more time away from us? I don't think so. This is something I have to do, Resa."

"Just be careful, Ethan."

He grabbed his jacket and kissed the top of her head. "I'll be fine. Promise."

She watched him go. "Why do I get the feeling that nothing good is going to come from this?" she asked aloud. She looked at Serendipity and couldn't help but groan. "Gosh, I'm starting to sound like my mother."

* * *

"I don't need lemonade or anything else to drink, Miguel," Charity said as she sat on the sofa in the living room of their home. "I just need you to be straight with me."

She looked at the stunned expression on his face and immediately felt guilty. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound so harsh. I just don't want you to feel as though you need to keep things from me. I love you, Miguel. Whatever it is that's been bothering you, I want to share in it with you. That's what husbands and wives do."

"I know, Charity," Miguel said sitting next to his wife. "I just—I just don't know entirely where to start. There's so much to say, and I just don't know how to say it."

"Maybe I can start you off. I have something to confess."

"Confess? What do you mean?"

Charity looked at him sheepishly and ran her fingers through her straight blonde hair. "You know that letter you were so fixated on last night? I read it. I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have done it."

Miguel swallowed hard. "So then you know it was from Kay."

"Yeah, I know. The last letter she wrote before the accident."

"She was so certain that she'd found what we needed to implicate the Cranes, Charity. It was as though we were putting pieces of a puzzle together."

Charity reached out and took Miguel's hand. "I don't know why you're still doing this to yourself. Miguel, it's been five years. That's a long time! There was nothing that you could have done to change things."

"But that's where you're wrong. If I'd never involved Kay in this mess in the first place…"

"Stop right there. We both know that _Kay_ did what _Kay_ wanted to do. It didn't matter if it was a party that Aunt Grace and Uncle Sam didn't want her to go to. She did it anyway. It didn't matter if it was wearing a dress that was a bit too revealing. She did it anyway. You could have told her to leave this issue of your father alone, but she wouldn't have listened, Miguel."

Miguel knew that Charity was right, but it was still difficult to let go. How could he let go when he'd disappointed Kay so much? When she'd given him her heart, and he'd taken it for granted?

"Still, I don't understand everything. Why are you so convinced that they had something to do with the accident?"

"Let's back up. I guess you really did miss a lot of things that were going on."

"Right. That was when Grandmother found Aunt Grace and me. We'd gone to visit her, and then she became ill."

"She taught you a lot."

Charity nodded. Up until the point that her grandmother came back into her life, she'd felt as though she was a freak. Strange premonitions would come over her, and she had no idea of how to control them. Her grandmother helped her to focus, and now she was rarely wrong. Yet, for whatever reason, she had a difficult time using her powers of intuition when Miguel was involved. In fact, she was usually at a loss, which was a frustrating feeling indeed.

Miguel continued. "So many things happened then. A tape of Sheridan supposedly confessing to the murder of Papa appeared. It was just as Luis and Sheridan were getting close. It really threw both of them for a loop."

"Poor Sheridan and Luis."

"I know. Sheridan was horrified at the thought that she murdered the father of the man she loved. And Luis—he'd been searching for so long for some news of our father, and to find out that Sheridan could somehow be involved…." his voice trailed off. "Mama, too, had a hard time of things. It was around that time that she finally stopped lighting the candle for Papa. Her hope was gone."

"And yours, too?"

"To be honest, I'm not sure that I ever really had hope. Sure, I thought of what it would be like for Papa to come back, but I was so young when he disappeared…. I guess more than anything else, I wanted answers.

"One day, not long after the tape came out, Kay overheard some men on the docks talking. They'd obviously been drinking; their lips were so loose. They were talking about the Cranes' cover-up of my father's disappearance, but according to them, it didn't have anything to do with protecting Sheridan at the time. It was all about Alistair Crane protecting himself."

"But if the men had been drinking, how do you know anything they said was true?" Charity reasoned.

"It did make me doubt at first that anything they said could be accurate. At the same time, knowing what a snake Alistair Crane is, I couldn't entirely dismiss it, either. Besides, Sheridan was just a child when the whole thing happened. According to Kay, they were laughing to themselves about the Cranes' dirty linen; how Sheridan was being set up for quite the fall. 'Would anyone ever know the truth about Martin Fitzgerald? Not if Old Man Alistair had anything to say.'

"Luis couldn't see straight. He was too close to the case. I mean, all his life, all he's ever wanted are answers about what happened to Papa. He thought he was finally getting those answers; they just weren't the ones he wanted.

"That began our quest.

"Kay and I found ourselves in some sticky situations. One night, when we sneaked into one of the warehouses owned by Crane Industries, we were conveniently locked in. And wouldn't you know it? The warehouse caught on fire. That wasn't a coincidence."

"Miguel, I don't…"

"Just listen, Charity. _Listen._ The fire inspector said that faulty wiring caused the fire, but I _know_ I smelled gasoline before it actually started. That same fire inspector became mayor two years later with Julian Crane's full backing."

"You must have been so scared."

Miguel closed his eyes, remembering the wall of flames. He knew that there was no logical explanation as to why he and Kay made it out, but they did. She'd taken his hand and led him straight through the flames when no other option remained. Miraculously, neither of them got even the slightest singe in the process.

"Yeah. It was pretty scary. How we managed to get out of there unscathed, I'll never know."

"By the grace of God," Charity supplied.

"I just wish He'd been feeling gracious a few weeks later when Kay's car went down that ravine and into the ocean," Miguel replied bitterly.

"Miguel! Don't talk like that! We don't know why things happen the way that they do, but God has a plan for us."

"I keep trying to tell myself that, but it's hard sometimes. Charity, Kay had just called. She was on her way to meet me, apparently with big news. And then, in the blink of an eye, she was gone."

"I know it must have been very hard for you that she was never able to tell you what she knew."

"To hell with her news! Don't you get it, Charity? I lost Kay!"

Charity was startled at hearing Miguel's tone. He'd never spoken so harshly to her before.

Seeing his wife's reaction, Miguel sighed. "I'm sorry. It's just that she'd been my best friend since we were three years old and played in sandboxes. Almost every happy memory of my childhood involves her and one of her grand schemes."

"Is that all she was to you, Miguel? Your friend?"

Miguel looked away from Charity, and he could almost picture the laughter in Kay's blue eyes. The glint of mischief, so often evident. Those eyes smiled for him.

He could almost feel the skin of her bare back beneath the touch of his fingers. Or how she breathlessly said his name against his lips. _Miguel…_

"Miguel?"

"She was just my friend," Miguel replied quietly, the lie falling from his tongue before he even knew he'd done it.

"I'm sorry. I don't even know where that question came from!" Charity exclaimed with a look of remorse.

Miguel felt guilt surge through him. It was becoming his constant companion. Perhaps he should tell her the whole truth.

But what good would that do now? For Charity to find out that he'd loved Kay would only cause doubts and problems. He hadn't even realized it for the longest time. It had sneaked up on him. He just regretted that he'd never even told Kay of his feelings. "Don't think anything about it."

"I can understand why you're upset, Miguel, but going after the Cranes, when you aren't even sure that they had anything to do with what happened, is going to get you nowhere."

"What do you mean that I'm not sure? Charity, I'm positive! And seeing my sister involved with one of them makes me realize even more that it's time for the Cranes to pay for their crimes."

Charity bit her bottom lip.

For the first time since she'd met Miguel, she felt as though she didn't know him.

* * *

_"I've been giving some thought to your suggestion, Julian," _Alistair's booming voice announced over the speakerphone.

"Which one would that be?" Julian asked, his normally beady eyes wide with interest as he settled back in the plush, leather swivel chair behind his desk.

_"Bringing Andrew into the company."_

"Really?" Julian asked, the surprise evident in his tone. His father was actually going to take his suggestion! "To what end? To make him heir?"

A laugh sounded from the other side. _"Please. I plan to use him to draw Ethan back in. I've noticed lately quite the competition between the two. Ethan isn't about to let his brother get one up on him. He might like to pretend that he's above such things, but whenever that Lopez-Fitzgerald girl is concerned, we both know better."_

"So you'll bring Drew into the company in an attempt to lure Ethan back. Why not just mold Andrew? He's bright, witty, and unlike Ethan, he's cunning."

_"Oh, Ethan has it in him to be cunning. He's just not been given the opportunity. We'll give him that opportunity."_

"How do you propose to do that?"

_"Just wait and see. Ethan has his weakness-and his weakness is Theresa."_

"Is any of this really necessary?"

_"Oh, I'm beginning to see the necessity of quite a few things. Theresa isn't our only threat. Miguel Lopez-Fitzgerald has been asking questions again. If he were to dig deeply enough…."_

"He's not exactly the brightest of them all," Julian pointed out.

_"My, my. Isn't that they pot calling the kettle black, Julian?"_

"Go ahead and hurl insults all you like. I know where this is coming from. You're still smarting over the failure of your latest attempt."

_"Well, well, Julian. You do have a few surprises left in you. I never imagined that you would be able to piece things together. Or that you would have the gall to goad me, either. Bravo."_

"So what do you intend to do about it?"

_"Finish what I started. Only this time, Theresa isn't the only one who needs to be looking out."_

"What does that mean?"

_"When I'm finished, there won't be any Lopez-Fitzgeralds left. They're standing on the answers, and they don't' even know it. I'd be a fool like you, Julian, if I risked them figuring it out."_

"I am not a fool, Father."

_"Stop kidding around, Julian. We both know that you are. Of course, after taking care of all these loose strings, I don't think that even your ineptitude will be able to slow us down."_

* * *

As Ethan stood outside of the Hotchkiss residence, he had to force himself to refrain from throwing open the door and marching inside. No, he had to keep his calm and wait patiently.

It really hadn't been long since he rang the doorbell. Maybe ten or fifteen seconds, but it felt like an eternity. The anticipation was starting to get to him.

Finally, the door swung open. A maid, unfamiliar to Ethan, opened the door.

"I'm Ethan Crane. I'm here to see Gwen."

The maid's eyes widened. "Yes, Mr. Crane. I know who you are! Mrs. Crane is upstairs in her room. Shall I call her down for you?"

"That won't be necessary," Ethan replied as he made his way toward the stairs.

It was strange to be in that house again. When he and Gwen were younger—when things were much simpler—they used to play hide-and-seek during those breaks from school. Of course, usually whenever one found the other, they were also at a good make-out spot.

He shook his head, having a hard time believing that things had turned out as they had. It was difficult to reconcile the woman Gwen had become with the girl she once was. When they were younger, Gwen had always seemed so sweet. Unlike many of the flighty girls from their circle, Gwen had a strong head on her shoulders and exuded intelligence and honesty.

_How things change_, thought Ethan.

Coming to the top of the stairs, Ethan made his way down the hall, finally stopping outside the bedroom door.

Without knocking, he swung it open. Gwen was curled up on the bed, awake, but obviously not feeling well. She lifted her head when she heard the door open.

"Ethan. I'm so glad you're okay." Her tone was lethargic. She didn't have a lot of energy left in her for reactions after spending most of the day retching.

"The game is over, Gwen."

She narrowed her eyes. "What are you talking about? On second thought, I don't think I even want to know. I'm not really up for this."

"Too bad. We're going to get everything out in the open, starting now. I am convinced that you had something to do with the attack on Theresa, and I _know_ that you were having an affair."

"What?" she demanded sitting up. "Why would you even think something so ridiculous?"

"Is it ridiculous, Gwen? I mean, after everything _else _that you've done, is it so ridiculous to think that?" Ethan asked, not giving away too much of what he knew.

Gwen swallowed hard. "I'll admit that I have done things that I'm not proud of, but Ethan, you're grasping at straws. I might not like Theresa, but I would never do anything so terrible as to make her think Chuck is still alive, only to send an imposter to kill her. That's crazy! Absolutely crazy! As for an affair, it's only ever been you. Just _you_."

"Really?" he asked sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Yes," she replied in an assuring tone.

He reached forward, gently stroking away some hair that had fallen on Gwen's forehead. Leaning toward her, he whispered in her ear, "Good try."

She pulled away from him, her eyes meeting his. "I didn't have anything to do with the man attacking Theresa. I _didn't_."

"Why should I believe that?"

"You've known me for a long time, Ethan. You've seen the good with the bad. You should know that murder isn't my style. I want you to see Theresa for what she is, but I don't want her dead! Then you'd never get over her. It might be selfish, but it's true."

Ethan nodded. Gwen's words had a ring of truth to them, largely because of her selfishness. "I believe that you didn't arrange the imposter."

"Good," she said, relief evident in her voice.

"But can you honestly tell me that there was never anyone else?"

Her eyes were guilt ridden.

He knew then that what Andrew had said was true.

"H-how?" she asked.

"Andrew told me. He mentioned running into a man outside of Theresa's boutique who seemed quite…._familiar_….with you."

Gwen shook her head. It felt so heavy. "Damn him," she muttered.

"He was actually telling the truth for once."

"He didn't tell you the _whole_ truth, Ethan."

"And let me guess. _You're_ going to tell me the whole truth."

"You bet I am. I'm just not sure if you're man enough to handle it," she replied, anger rising within. "Andrew has always wanted what you had. When you and I were engaged, we ran into each other in New York. He pursued me relentlessly until I gave in. Then he saw that you wanted Theresa . So what does he do? He goes after her. And guess what. He got her, too. I know you've seen the spark between them. So you see, Ethan, none of us is as pure as the driven snow. You're willing to take your little tramp at face value, but you throw stones at everyone else."

"I don't have to throw stones, Gwen. You're doing a fine job of ruining yourself. You can't even come up with original lies anymore."

"Who could blame me for what I did, Ethan? Do you have any idea of what it was like to be married to you? I gave six years of my life in marriage to you and many years before that as your girlfriend. You were my everything! And how did you repay my love for you? You pined away for Theresa. It was always about Theresa! So excuse me if I wanted to feel as though I was an attractive woman again! Are you such a hypocrite that you would judge me while lusting after Theresa?"

"_Puleeze, Gwen_. This wasn't about trying to feel attractive again. It was about setting a snare! You were trying to trap me again, as you've done all along. This time, however, you're using an innocent life! But guess what? It's never going to make me want you again, especially knowing this child might not even be mine."

"Oh, this is your baby, Ethan. Of that, I have no doubt."

"The lies stop now. Do you hear me? NOW. You aren't going to hold this over my head, or anything else, for that matter. I'm done feeling guilty for what happened between us."

"You would turn your back on your child, Ethan?"

"No, but I would turn my back on you." With that, Ethan strode out of the room.

Gwen flopped back on the bed. How could things have gotten so bad between them?

She cried.

For the girl she had once been.

For the woman she had become.

* * *

"Ethan!" Rebecca gushed when she saw her former son-in-law coming down the stairs. "What a pleasant surprise!"

"Save it," he growled.

Rebecca laid her hand across her chest, as though shocked by Ethan's response to her. "Well, a little civility never hurt anyone."

"You want me to be _civil _to you? I don't think I have it in me right now."

"I know that news of Gwen's pregnancy must have come as a shock. And then with the unfortunate incident from last night, you must be on edge. But we're family, Ethan. _Family_."

"No, we're not. Truth be told, I've never liked you. You always pushed Gwen into doing things she didn't want to do. Now you're helping her perpetuate lies. We're most certainly _not _family!"

"Gwen is my daughter. I would do anything for her!"

"Does that include arranging a murder in a most creative way?"

Rebecca blinked innocently. "I have no idea of what you're talking about."

"No, of course not," Ethan replied sarcastically.

"Really, Ethan. Little ol' me? Murder is hardly my style."

"But you just said you would do anything for your daughter. Besides, this particular attempt had your spitefulness written all over it." He narrowed the distance between them. "So help me, Rebecca, if anything happens to Theresa, I'm coming after you. I am a Crane with all the power that goes along with it, and I will drive you into the ground."

Rebecca's eyes widened, and she swallowed hard, saying nothing.

Ethan glared at her for a few seconds for good measure before showing himself out. As he stood on the front porch, he sighed. Would he ever truly be free from Gwen or her mother?

The ringing of his cell phone interrupted his thoughts.

Pulling it from the pocket of his jacket, he answered it, "Ethan Crane."

_"Mr. Crane, this is Gary Livingston. I need to see you." _The man's tone was hurried and hushed.

"How convenient. You were my next stop, Mr. Livingston. I have a few things I would like to say to you."

_"Listen, there isn't a lot of time. This is about Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald and who sent the imposter. She's still in danger."_

Ethan, already annoyed, was growing increasingly impatient. "Then spit it out."

_"No, I need to see you face to face. I want some assurances."_

"Assurances?"

_"That nothing will happen to me or my family_," Gary supplied.

"I'll do what I can as soon as I know what we're dealing with. Where are you?"

_"My office."_

"I'm on my way," Ethan replied before hanging up.

* * *

Ethan made it to Crane Industries about thirty minutes later. As he walked into the building, several people greeted him by name. It felt odd going back; he hadn't been in the building since he packed away the rest of his belongings and left the company.

Taking the elevator to the tenth floor, Ethan felt his heart pounding. He's suspected that Gary Livingston had something to do with the imposter. Now he knew for certain. But who was behind the attempt on Theresa's life? He had a feeling that Rebecca had something to do with it. But was she working alone? He could hardly wait to find out.

Stepping from the elevator, Ethan rounded the corner heading toward Mr. Livingston's office. His steady pace slowed, though, when he saw paramedics and police on the scene coming in and out of Gary work area.

"You can't be here," a police officer told him.

"Yes, I can. I'm Ethan Crane. What happened?"

"Looks like the poor guy offed himself."

"You mean you think it was a suicide?" Ethan asked, stunned. This couldn't be happening. The answers he needed…. "I just spoke with him. He seemed spooked but otherwise fine!"

"Are you saying you have reason to believe this wasn't a suicide?" the officer asked.

"Someone went to a lot of trouble to keep this guy from talking," Ethan muttered. "Dammit!" He pushed his way past the man, looking into the office. Seeing blood splattered against the window, Ethan felt his stomach lurch.

"Did he leave anything? A note?"

"We've not found one yet," the policeman replied.

Ethan felt his heart seize with fear. "Theresa. I've got to get to her."

"Whoa. Wait a minute," the policeman called after Ethan as he hurried down the hall. "If you can shed some light…."

"I don't have the time!"

The elevator door opened, and Ethan pressed the ground floor button. Pulling out his phone, he dialed the number to his apartment. He heard a busy signal and remembered that they'd taken the phone off the hook.

When he finally made it to his car, he knew he was driving like a madman, but he didn't care. If someone had killed Gary Livingston, Theresa could very well be next.

Ten minutes later, he arrived at his apartment. Bounding up the stairs, he fumbled with the keys as he tried to put them in the locks to his door.

"Theresa?" he called out when he finally got the door open.

No answer.

"Theresa?"

He looked in the bedroom. She wasn't in there. The door to the bathroom was open, so he knew she wasn't there. Nor was she in the kitchen. She was nowhere to be seen.

And then he saw it.

The vase of flowers that Andrew brought for Theresa lay broken on the floor.

"Dear God, no!"


	75. Chapter 75

**Author's Note: **Well, we've finally reached the end of this part of Ethan and Theresa's journey. I hope you've enjoyed it. Just a word of warning, though, a portion of this chapter is mature in nature. That portion will be labeled with a double horizontal line so that if you prefer to avoid that portion of the story, it will be easy to sort out.**  
**

Thanks so much to all of you who have revisited this story so many years after it was originally written (remember those R&A, TurtleRun, and coffeeroom days?) and to all of you who are first time readers, as well.

* * *

**Chapter Seventy-Five: "The Real Thing"**

"Your game's back," Jamaal commented as Drew's three-pointer made its way through the basketball hoop.

"I'm trying not to let things distract me anymore."

"Things—or women?" Jamaal asked as he got the rebound. Dribbling the ball, he watched his opponent carefully.

"Things, women, or tough guys named Jamaal that like to try to divert me away from my game," Drew replied as he made a play for the ball.

Jamaal sidestepped him and took a shot. As it went through the hoop, the clock ran out. "Time for you to pay up, Man."

Drew groaned. "You really know how to break a guy," he said with a grin. He walked to his gym bag and pulled out a fifty dollar bill. "I guess my game is back, but yours never went away."

Jamaal smiled as Drew handed him the money. "Thanks! My ma's gonna be so surprised when I come home with grocery money!"

"Yeah? Well, you're a good hustler, kid."

"Same time next week?" Jamaal asked.

"You bet," Drew replied as he took the basketball and sank it through the hoop. "Only next week, you'd better be prepared to pay up."

"Haven't had to yet," Jamaal said with a wink before heading out the door.

Drew looked back to the hoop.

A slow clapping sound reverberated through the gym. Drew spun around when he heard it.

"Bravo, Son. Bravo. Quite the performance."

"Father! What are you doing here? This isn't exactly one of your usual haunts."

Julian wrinkled his nose and looked around the facility in disdain. "I suppose not. I'm finding it hard to believe that it could be one of yours. What were you doing anyway by losing to that boy _purposely_?"

Drew squared his shoulders. "What makes you think I did it on purpose?"

"Come on. We both know that Cranes don't lose otherwise."

Drew turned away from him. "You never did answer my question. What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, naturally," Julian replied, straightening his tie. "I needed to speak with you."

"About…"

"About what you're doing with your life."

Drew rolled his eyes. "Right. The talk that no son wants to have with his parent. What is this anyway? I thought that you and I had an understanding. You and Grandfather have Ethan to do your bidding, and you leave me to my own devices."

"Yes. Well….things change. Besides, I think I have an offer that you can't refuse."

"Really? And what's that?"

"A chance to one-up Ethan."

Drew's eyes narrowed. "And what makes you think I would be interested?"

"_Please._ Hasn't that been the bane of your existence? Always so close…yet so far away."

Andrew's surprise shone on his features.

"Don't look so shocked. Competition is healthy. It's what drives us to better ourselves."

"Now you're starting to sound like Grandfather," Drew commented.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"That's not how it was intended."

"Oh, posh, Andrew. You've had quite the life, and from what I can tell, you've lived it to the fullest. Now it's time to pay up."

Drew crossed his arms. "You need me for something."

"I think you have it backward. You need _me_."

Drew shook his head. "I don't think so. Julian Crane does not come to places like the Harmony Youth Center unless it's out of desperation. Nor would Grandfather allow such talk if there wasn't a catch to it."

Julian rubbed his chin in thought. "All right. The truth of the matter is that I see an opportunity. Perhaps I've always seen a bit of myself in you, so I don't like the fact that you've always been on the outside, my boy. Now's your chance to prove that you are a true Crane. Now's your chance to do what Ethan never could do….make the tough decisions. Think about it."

With that, Julian turned around and left. Drew watched his father go, unable to shake the feeling that there was something more to what Julian told him. Yet how could he pass it up? Wasn't that what he'd always wanted? To be welcomed into the fold?

* * *

A fear unlike anything Ethan had ever known seized him. Quickly, he pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket and dialed the emergency number.

"911 Emergency."

"This is Ethan Crane. I need the police now! My girlfriend has disappeared!" his voice was frantic.

The voice on the other end was calm and collected. "Listen to me carefully and try to remain calm, Mr. Crane. What details can you give me? Did you witness an abduction?"

"No, but when I got home…."

"Sir, are you at …."

But Ethan didn't hear the voice on the other end. He was too focused on the sound of the doorknob turning. His body tensed as the door swung open. Yet relief flooded over him when he heard the tiny curse that reverberated through the room.

It was the most wonderful sound he'd ever heard.

"Stupid bag," Theresa muttered as she held a plastic bag with torn handles.

"Never mind," Ethan said hastily into the phone. "She's here." He turned off the phone and took the bags from her arms, setting them aside before pulling her into a kiss.

Theresa's senses felt overwhelmed. She could barely breathe; she could barely think. All she could do was feel. And what a feeling it was! Being near Ethan, touching him, was the most wonderful thing in the world. Of that, she had no doubt.

Finally pulling away to get some much needed air, she looked up at him, her breaths quick, her mouth swollen. "If I would have known that I would get this kind of greeting, I would go out and come back in more often."

He tenderly stroked her face. "You had me so scared."

"Scared? Why?" Theresa asked. "I just went to the store, and I did leave a note."

"A note? Where?" Ethan asked.

"On the kitchen table."

"I didn't see it."

"Hhmmm," she said as she walked into the kitchen. Sure enough, the note wasn't there. Upon closer inspection, she saw that it was on the floor. "Must have blown off when the air kicked on."

She walked back into the living room and saw the broken vase and flowers on the floor for the first time. "Oh no! What happened?"

"I don't know. That was why I got so scared. When I saw it, I thought…"

"You thought something had happened to me! Oh, Ethan, I'm so sorry!" She said gingerly placing kisses on lips. "I actually thought that I might get back before you did, but the store was pretty crowded."

He leaned his forehead down against hers. "I'm just glad that you're okay."

"Ethan, I'm never going to leave you. _Never._ We've spent too much time apart already."

"You don't know how glad I am to hear you say that," he said before tenderly kissing her.

"I just wish I knew what happened here," she said as she looked down at the flowers. "Do you think someone came in while both of us were gone?"

"Nothing is missing. The door was locked, too."

She frowned as she knelt down. "We should probably clean up this mess." She picked up one of the flowers Andrew brought. "I think some of these might be salvageable, but some are in bad shape."

Ethan knelt and took her hands, distracting her from the flowers. "I need you to listen to me carefully."

His tone was serious, and that worried her. "What is it?"

"Theresa, there are a lot of things going on. I'm not going to beat around the bush. It's not safe. I got a call from Gary Livingston, asking me to meet him at his office. He said he had information. When I got there about thirty minutes later, I was met by the police, and Livingston was dead."

_"What_? _How?"_ Her face fell.

"Gunshot wound. The police are calling it a suicide, but there is no way that Gary Livingston killed himself. He was scared, but he wanted to talk to protect his family."

"I-I can't believe this."

"Whoever killed Livingston probably did so because he knew too much."

"And it's probably the same person who sent the imposter," Theresa supplied.

"Exactly."

Tears filled her eyes. "This is just so terrible! After the imposter ordeal, I had my suspicions that Mr. Livingston was not on the up-and-up, but for someone to kill him? No one deserves that!"

"I know, Baby. I know."

"And why would anyone want me gone that badly?"

He shook his head. "I don't know, but I do know one thing. Gwen's not behind it."

"How can you be so sure? I don't want to think it's true, but we both know that she's capable of some very underhanded things."

"Call it an instinct on my part or selfishness on hers. She's been playing a game with us, but she doesn't want to win by default. She knows that if anything were to happen to you, I would be lost—to her, to everyone."

"Ethan, if something were to happen, I would never want you to give up. You are such a wonderful man with so many amazing gifts—amazing talents."

"It's all a moot point, because there is no way that I'm going to let anything happen to you. I know what it is to live without you, and it's not what I would even call living. It was just existing."

"I love you, Ethan."

"I love you, too, Theresa." He smiled at her. "I say the words, but somehow they don't seem adequate to show what I feel for you. Three little words: _I love you_. So simple, but there's so much more to how I feel."

Her heart skipped a beat, and she could feel the butterflies in her stomach. Their eyes met, and Theresa could feel the tension between them. It would be so easy just to lose herself in him, to give herself over completely. How she wanted to! But was it right to take things so far so soon?

She swallowed hard, having a difficult time forming words. "I, um, I bought some things at the store I thought you might like."

He could sense her reticence and her need to move to a more neutral subject. "Oh you did, did you?"

* * *

"She's sleeping," Luis whispered as he walked back into the living room.

Sheridan smiled at her husband. He'd been so protective of both her and Katie since they'd come home from the hospital earlier that day.

"I could've put her down," Sheridan whispered back.

Luis sat next to her. "Well, I want you to get rested up. It's a pretty big deal to have a baby, Sheridan."

"Tell me about it."

"Are you in any pain?" Luis asked touching her face. "Can I get anything for you?"

Sheridan's heart fluttered. She didn't think she would ever get used to having love showered upon her. She drifted for so many years without it. After her mother died, it was as though the light had gone out of her life. Her so-called family couldn't care less about her. Strings of relationships with men who only wanted her for her money followed. How she'd managed to find Luis, she would never know. He was a gift from God, and now they had their own precious gift together—Katherine Pilar.

"I'm fine, Luis. I promise."

"You would tell me if you weren't, wouldn't you?"

She rested her hand on his chest and grinned. "Have you ever known me to not let you know what I'm thinking?"

Luis smiled back. "Good point. You do have to be the most opinionated, stubborn woman I've ever known."

"And you have to be the most opinionated, stubborn man _I've_ ever known. We're just lucky we made it this far," Sheridan replied, her tone a teasing one.

"Well, when you have something good, you don't want to let go of it, and I have the best there is. You—and now Katie. I'll never let anything happen to either of you. I swear it."

Sheridan frowned upon hearing the serious turn the conversation took. Something was bothering Luis. He was trying to hide it, but she could tell. She had a feeling she knew exactly what it was.

"How is Theresa?"

Luis looked at her, and she could tell that he was biting his tongue. Something had definitely happened; something that made him uncomfortable.

"Well, she's with Ethan," Luis offered as an explanation.

Sheridan nodded. Now she understood why Luis was so glum where his sister was concerned.

"She has to make her own choices, Luis," Sheridan said gently.

"But how can I stand by and let her make the wrong ones? Especially when they could very well get her killed!"

"Ethan loves her, Luis. He would lay down his life for her. You do know that, don't you?"

Luis rubbed his forehead. He supposed that in Ethan's own way, he did love Theresa. But where had it gotten either one of them? Ethan already had one failed marriage under his belt, was incredibly selfish, and Theresa was vulnerable. It just wasn't a good combination. "What I know is that he's hurt her over and over again. I just don't want to see that happen again."

Sheridan reached out and took his hands in her own. "We didn't get it right the first time, either, Luis. It took us awhile."

"That was—different. We had people working against us."

Sheridan shook her head. "It's not so different, sweetie. Ethan and Theresa had people working against them, too." She paused. "Luis, I need you to promise me something."

"What is it?"

"I want you to promise me that you're not going to be one of those people working against Ethan and Theresa. They've both been through so much, and Theresa needs the support of her brother."

Luis took a deep breath. "Oh, I've already heard the ultimatum, Sheridan."

"Ultimatum?"

"From Theresa. Either deal with her relationship with Ethan, or I won't have a relationship with my baby sister anymore."

"Oh my!"

"Yeah."

"What did you do? I mean—how did that make you feel?"

"Pretty damn rotten," Luis admitted. "I love her, Sheridan. I want to protect her, and it hurts to see her in this situation."

"But she loves Ethan. It's been almost six years, and that hasn't gone away. Don't make her choose, Luis."

Luis's brown eyes met Sheridan's blue ones. "Is that what I've made _you_ do, Sher?"

"Luis, I don't regret marrying you for a minute. You are my family now, and the Cranes are my past, but it is difficult for me when you and Ethan fight. He's the only one of my family, besides my mother, who ever cared for me. He's also one of my best friends. I just wish the two of you…" her voice trailed off.

"I don't know how to let this go," Luis said quietly.

"You're going to have to start by letting Theresa go. She's not your responsibility anymore. She's a grown woman, and she has to live her own life."

"I just—I just feel like she's my own, you know?"

"But Luis, she's not. If you don't accept that, she's not going to be in your life at all."

Luis swallowed hard. "I still remember brushing her hair and putting it in pigtails. Hank and I used to tease her a lot, but she was the most beautiful little girl. And so sweet. So trusting. At night, she used to cry out for Papa. Miguel was too young to remember him, but Theresa—Theresa remembered. I would go and check on her, and she'd wrap her little fingers around mine."

Sheridan felt tears come to her eyes. "It was hard on you not having him."

"It still is. Sheridan, my family is my life. That's why I can't let this go."

"Luis, Ethan is not the enemy."

"He's a Crane."

"So am I," she pointed out.

"But you gave that up. Ethan never will. Alistair and Julian will always have some hold over him. He'll become more and more like them, and I don't want my sister to be part of that. Hell, it wouldn't surprise me if Al and Julian didn't have something to do with the Chuck imposter and the attempt on Theresa's life."

Sheridan sighed. "Ethan's not like them in the least! Why else would he leave the company behind to strike out on his own to help those who need it? He cares about what happens to people. He is a decent man, and he is in love with your sister."

"But you don't think it's out of the realm of possibility that Alistair or Julian had something to do with the imposter."

Sheridan hesitated. She hated to admit it, but it wasn't out of the realm of possibility. She, better than most, knew what her family was capable of. "I can't say for certain, but yes, it is a possibility."

"Which is another reason why Theresa needs to be away from Ethan."

"Let it go, Luis."

"Sher-"

"You will drive her away. Is that what you want? Ethan makes Theresa happy. Let them have peace."

"I'm not promising anything. You know I don't make promises I can't keep."

"Just try. Just try."

* * *

"We are going to have a feast!" Theresa said with a smile as she stirred the _arroz con pollo_ in the skillet. "A little _sopa_ to go along with it; _frijoles_, too. I also thought I might throw together a few _quesadillas._ It's not exactly gourmet cuisine, but it will do."

Ethan stood behind Theresa, wrapping his hands around her waist. "Are you kidding? Do you have any idea of how much I have missed your _arroz con pollo_? Or your _quesadilllas_? You shouldn't spoil me like this."

"I like spoiling you," Theresa said with a light laugh.

"In that case, what's for dessert?"

She turned around and playfully hit his arm. "You are _terrible_! Actually, I thought that I would let _you _make dessert."

"Unless you want macaroni and cheese for dessert…"

"Oh, stop being a baby. I'll talk you through it…unless, of course, you can't follow directions," she teased.

He sniffed. "What's that I smell?"

Her brows furrowed. "I don't smell anything but the food."

"No…no. I'm pretty certain that's the scent of a _challenge_ in the air."

"If you think you're up to it," Theresa said standing on her toes and whispering into his ear.

"I'm up for anything you throw my way," he replied with a grin, his words tinged with a double meaning.

Theresa felt her cheeks redden. She wasn't used to the raw feelings he elicited in her, the things he made her want to do just from a simple look or the tone of his voice.

A sudden clanging noise snapped Theresa and Ethan away from their amorous thoughts. "What was that?" they asked in unison.

Walking into the living room, they saw Serendipity perched on one of the end tables, the telephone receptacle which had been there now on the floor.

"Well, it looks like we have our answer about what happened to the flowers," Ethan said with a smile.

Theresa was horrified. Serendipity never acted like this at home! "Serendipity! Get down from there!" she hissed.

The cat merely looked at her from his perch.

Theresa groaned and scooped her kitty up and placed him on the floor before picking up the phone and its holder.

"I'm just glad that no one was in here," Ethan said with relief evident in his voice. He was careful not to show too much concern in front of Theresa, but with everything that had happened in the last few days, he was afraid for her.

She shook her head. "This little monster is almost as bad. I'm sorry, Ethan. He never acts like this!"

"Maybe we can just chalk it up to being in a new place," Ethan suggested.

"Yeah. I suppose so. I, for one, like being here with you. It feels like a wonderful dream."

"This time it's the real thing, though," he said pulling into a hug. The scent of her hair filled his nostrils, and he felt intoxicated with her nearness. "Reality is better than the illusion, don't you think?"

"Mmmm. Absolutely," she replied as she leaned her head against his chest, listening to the beating of his heart, so perfectly in sync with her own. "I think we have a lot to talk about."

"I think you're right."

She looked up at him, laughter in her eyes. "But don't think that you're getting out of dessert, Mister!"

* * *

Rebecca Hotchkiss stared at the phone, trying to gather the courage to pick it up and do what must be done. How could she do it? Yet how could she not?

_Think finesse_, she told herself. _You've always had it. Always._

But would finesse be enough to make Alistair Crane see things her way? She was accustomed to making others see things her way. Some would call it manipulation, but she preferred to think of it as a gently persuasion. But now—now she was in a situation with little control. It wasn't something she liked in the least. What was there to do?

She went into her arrangement with Alistair knowing that things could get sticky; she just thought by now they would have different results. Theresa would be gone, and Ethan would be at Gwen's side once again—where he belonged. No, it would never do to have all the Crane influence and power working against her daughter rather than for Gwen. Fortunately, Gwen still wanted Ethan. For what reason, Rebecca couldn't fathom. Ethan was attractive, yes. Intelligent, no. He was too easy to persuade.

But then Rebecca remembered the anger and sheer hatred in Ethan's eyes earlier. She had no doubt in her mind that he would destroy her—and everything she held dear—if the game she and Alistair were playing didn't cease immediately. She was just afraid that Alistair wouldn't see things from her perspective. What did _he_ have to lose?

"Do it. Just do it," she murmured as she finally picked up the receiver.

Dialing Alistair Crane's private number, she felt her heart race as she heard the ringing on the other end.

_"I was wondering how long it would take for you to call, Rebecca,"_ came Alistair's deep voice on the other end.

He sounded amiable enough, she was relieved to hear. Yet it did make her nervous that he was expecting her to call. He seemed to know so much—and how he found out, she couldn't be sure. All she knew was that it filled her with a great uneasiness. "How did you know?"

_"I make it my business to know everything. For example, I know that Ethan paid your daughter a little visit today, and you were on the receiving end of some rather harsh words."_

"Yes, well…sticks and stones," Rebecca replied, trying to sound nonchalant, though it came out a bit strained.

_"He worried you."_

"Maybe a little," Rebecca replied in a small voice.

_"When we entered into this arrangement together, I thought it was understood that weakness of mind was not to be tolerated, Rebecca. You've disappointed me."_

"Yes, but when we entered into this arrangement, I had no idea of everything you intended."

_"Please. You knew exactly what you were getting into. Did you think Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald was just going to go away by herself? Or that Gary Livingston would? He became a liability, Rebecca. Don't find yourself in the same situation."_

Rebecca swallowed hard. There was no backing out.

"So what do we do next?"

_"Lie low for awhile. We'll let things get back to normal and lure Theresa and the other Lopez-Fitzgeralds into a false sense of security. And when they least expect it…"_

Rebecca closed her eyes. She'd made a deal with the devil; there was no going back.

Opening her eyes, she looked at a picture of her daughter.

_What I do for you…_

* * *

"I don't think I could eat another bite," Theresa said rubbing her stomach. "Gosh, I don't think I've eaten so much in….forever."

"You were supposed to save room for dessert," Ethan reminded her.

"Well, I'm sure by the time you're done, I'll have room for it."

"So what am I making, oh great chef?"

"Well, I thought about being mean and making you prepare _flan_, but I don't think you're quite ready for that. So then I thought chocolate chip cookies would suffice. You don't happen to have a frilly apron, do you? No cooking experience is complete without one."

Ethan snapped his fingers. "Darn. I must have left it the closet of my other apartment, along with my collection of high-heeled shoes."

Theresa giggled. "Aren't you full of surprises?"

"Never a dull moment," he said with a wink.

"Absolutely not," she replied as she stood and walked around the other side of the table where he sat. Standing behind his chair, she reached down, taking his left arm and pulling up his shirt sleeve. She did the same with his right arm as well.

Ethan pushed his chair back from the table and stood.

"Now you're ready to get down to business," Theresa announced.

He wrapped his arms around her waist. "I certainly am," he murmured before taking possession of her mouth.

"You…aren't…..going to…..get out of…..making…..dessert…." she said between kisses.

"You are one tough lady," he said with a grin as he finally pulled away from her. "It was a valiant effort, though."

"Charm will only get you so far," Theresa said taking his hands and pulling him toward the refrigerator.

"I don't know, Theresa. There are plenty of people who skirt by on their charm alone."

"Like who?" Theresa asked as she opened the refrigerator door and took out milk and eggs.

"Well," Ethan began, "my brother, for one."

Theresa chewed her bottom lip. "You weren't very happy to see him earlier, were you?"

"If you were me, would _you_ be?" Ethan asked as he pulled flour, brown sugar, and vanilla that Theresa bought from his once-bare cupboard.

Theresa sighed. "I suppose not."

"The two of you were very….comfortable with one another."

Theresa put her hands on her hips. "Ethan Crane, are you _jealous_?"

"Of course not! I just…well, okay. Maybe a little. It's just that you have this—I don't know what to call it—a soft spot, maybe, for him. I don't understand it."

"That's because you only see what he lets you see of him, but Ethan, he's so much better than you or even he gives him credit."

"Theresa, he manipulates. All his life, he's used people. Then he makes messes, and he expects other people to clean them up for him."

"He manipulates only because he thinks it's the only way to get what he wants! I, better than anyone else, know what it's like to be caught in that trap, Ethan."

"That was different."

"Not so different," Theresa said softly. "I just wish you could see what I see. I have seen a side of him—a selfless side—on more than one occasion. Did you know that he plays basketball with the kids at the youth center? That's not something he has to do; it's something he likes to do. And it means so much to them. And what about what he did today? He didn't have to tell you what he knew about Gwen, but he did it because it was the right thing to do."

"He did it because he wanted to impress you."

Theresa shook her head. "No, Ethan, that's not it at all. He knows how I feel for you. I think that in some way, he's always known—even when I didn't know it myself. What he did today, he did because he knew that the situation was hurtful to me and to you."

"I guess I just can't forget how he insinuated himself into your life so that he could get back at me. It makes me so angry when I think of the way he used you, the way he hurt you."

"I was hurt by him, yes, but I've been through worse," she replied, rather pointedly.

Theresa's words hit Ethan, and he swallowed hard. "God, I'm a hypocrite, aren't I?"

"Hypocrite is not a word _I_ would use. Ethan, we've both done things to hurt one another. But let's face it: Andrew wasn't the only one who was being a user. I used _him_ to get back at you that night on the wharf."

"Only because I hurt you."

"Yes, you did hurt me, and what I did as a result was not something I would normally do. On the same token, Drew has done things because he's been hurt all his life by what he perceives to be your parents' preferential treatment of you. He's like a little boy, Ethan. A hurt little boy."

Frustration rose in Ethan. "But I can't change that! I can't make my parents treat him one way versus another. I don't have any control over how he feels! I think you're forgetting that Andrew is not a hurt little boy. He's a grown man, and he has to live with the consequences of his actions. We all do."

Theresa nodded. "I agree with you. He does have to live with the consequences of his actions, and I think he's starting to realize that. But I also think that he needs to be encouraged—not torn down. Ethan, I care about what happens between you and him. I just wish…."

"Resa, I think this is something we're just going to have to agree to disagree about."

"For now," she amended as she winked at him, some of the seriousness of their conversation, melting away.

Ethan couldn't help but smile. "You are so tenacious!"

"Really?" she replied as she felt his arms slid around her waist. "And just what else am I?"

"Very kind," he said kissing her forehead.

"Mmmmm….what else?"

"Beautiful. So beautiful," he replied before placing a light kiss on the tip of her nose.

She giggled at the feel of his lips on her nose. "Anything else?"

Kissing her cheek, he replied, "You are quite clever."

She sighed and ran her fingers lightly down his arms. "Is there anything else left?"

His blue eyes drank her in. "One other thing. You are the most incredibly sexy woman I've ever met."

Theresa audibly sucked in a breath. Ethan lightly brushed his lips against hers. "Didn't mean to embarrass you," he murmured.

She looked up at him, her eyes dewy with love. "Embarrassment is not exactly what I'm feeling right now," she admitted.

"What _are_ you feeling, Resa?"

"Like I need to get my bearings," she replied. "And I'm amazingly in the mood for…."

"Chocolate chip cookies?" he supplied with a grin.

"Yeah. Cookies," she replied, forcing herself to move away from him.

"I want you to be sure that you're ready for cookies. You know I'll wait until you're absolutely certain."

Theresa's heart pounded. He certainly wasn't talking about cookies anymore. She smiled. "Have I told you lately that I love you?"

"Not in the last five minutes."

"Well, I do love you, Ethan. With all of my heart. You are the best." She kissed him on the cheek before going to the cupboard to pull out shortening.

He sighed. He was glad she thought he was the best, because he certainly didn't feel so great. He knew he was responsible for so much pain in her life—and in Gwen's life.

Ethan knew that he did what he had to do where Gwen was concerned, but she was a part of his life for so many years. Yet the old anger was boiling within him again. He didn't even know how he could feel compassion for a woman who continually lied to him—tricked him—all for her own selfish purposes. Yet he did. It was utterly frustrating.

Theresa looked back and him and saw the look on his face. "What is it, Ethan?" she asked, concern filling her voice.

"I was thinking about Gwen."

"Oh."

"Seeing her today—seeing her desperation—it was sad. I was angry with her, so angry. I still am, but I also realize that I have a lot of culpability in this situation, as well."

"Did she admit what Drew said?"

"Finally. She denied it at first. I'm not certain that I expected otherwise. Then when she finally opened up, it was as though the floodgates were open." Ethan hesitated, wondering if what Gwen said about Andrew and herself was true. He'd like to think that his own brother wouldn't do that to him, but then again, this was Andrew Gwen was talking about. He finally continued. "Everything she'd been bottling up came out. Everything from her resentment of my feelings for you to always being second in my life. Some of the things she said were true, Theresa. I wasn't a good husband to her. I never should have married her in the first place."

"For so many reasons," Theresa said quietly. "But Ethan, I don't want you to beat yourself up over this. Remember what you said about Drew not taking responsibility for his actions? I think the same thing is going on with Gwen. She wants to blame you for what _she _did. It isn't your fault that she did things to keep us apart. That was a decision that she made. Those actions had consequences, but she didn't want to deal with it. So what did she do? She blamed everyone else."

"I turned my back on her today."

She squeezed his hand. "And it's hard."

"Yes, it is. I don't want her in my life, Theresa. I really don't. But I was harsh_. So harsh_."

"Sometimes harshness is what it takes. Gwen needs to make a life for herself, Ethan. If she's still clinging to hope that you and she will get back together, how can she move forward? No, you did the right thing. No matter how mercenary it seems, it was what needed to be done."

"You must think I'm a fool."

She shook her head vehemently. "Not at all! I think that you are truly a decent man. Even after all the garbage Gwen has hurled at us, you still have compassion for her. Not many men would. You're a good man, and that's only one of the many reasons I love you."

Ethan felt a warmth wash over him. How many times had he wanted to be near Theresa? How many times had he dreamed of her? How many times had she been out of his reach? But here she was—standing with him in his kitchen—telling him that she loved him. It was too good to be true, but it was the real thing.

"Well, I'm going to warn you that my cooking skills—or lack thereof—are not going to be one of the reasons why you love me."

"I seem to remember a certain young man dressed as an Italian waiter at the Crane Cabin several years ago who did some cooking. You did just fine then."

"But I had Chad with me. I tell you, Resa, there's nothing quite like seeing Chad Harris in a kitchen. You wouldn't think that he would know up from down, but he knows his stuff. I would've been in trouble if he hadn't been there."

"Well, I'll bail you out this time, Mr. Crane," Theresa said passing him a large mixing bowl. First things first, you need to measure out 3/4 a cup of shortening."

He measured it out and put it in the bowl. Furrowing his brows, he looked at the fatty globs. "Is that a lot of shortening?"

She laughed. "I'll just say this. If I ate these cookies all the time, I wouldn't be able to keep my girlish figure. Now we need something to sweeten it up. Go ahead and add 1-1/4 cups of brown sugar. That should do the trick."

He carefully measured it out. "When I was a little boy, I used to love brown sugar. When I'd come home for holidays, your mother used to give me spoonfuls of it to eat."

"Mama did that?" Theresa asked, surprise evident in her voice.

"Oh yeah. But she did make me promise to brush my teeth immediately afterward."

"Now that sounds like Mama!" Theresa replied. Her mother was always very concerned about the little things.

"Have you spoken to Pilar lately?" Ethan asked.

"Just the other day. I'm sure Luis has spoken to her, though, with the baby being here and all. Mama seemed happy, though I do think she worries about all of us here."

"Still, it's good that she's living for herself now," Ethan said.

"Absolutely. Even though it was so scary when she was sick, it was also a wake-up call for her, I think. She's always been so selfless, always taking care of others. Now she takes care of herself."

"I'm glad to hear it," Ethan said as he pulled out the hand mixer and plugged it in.

She smiled as she watched him. At least he knew how to use a mixer.

Ethan looked back at Theresa, seeing the amusement on her face. "What?"

"I was just thinking about you and Sheridan. You actually know how to use a mixer. When I taught Sheridan to make cookies, she was at something of a disadvantage."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. She didn't know what a mixer was, let alone how to use one. She's improved considerably since."

"I understand that she makes a mean lasagna."

Theresa nodded. "Lasagna that could give Luigi a run for his money."

"Who would've thought?" Ethan asked with a smile. "You know, it was actually those cookies that Sheridan made that made me wonder if you were back in town. I remember going to her house one afternoon, and I smelled the most delicious aroma. It reminded me of the last time we made cookies together."

"Mmmm. That night was so much fun! I seem to remember a little game we played…"

"Don't even," he warned.

She persisted. "…and you told me your most embarrassing moment. Something about a presentation you did before your class with your zipper down."

"Oh, you are a cruel, cruel woman!" he groaned. "But I can give as good as I can take. I seem to remember that you are a closet Carpenters and Neil Diamond fan."

She sighed with exaggeration. "Guilty as charged."

"We'd be a dangerous pair if we ever resorted to blackmailing each other," Ethan teased.

She opened the package of flour. "Oh yes. The dirt we could tell!" She looked at the flour and laughed, a memory suddenly coming to her.

"What are you up to now?"

"I'm not up to anything. I just thought of more blackmail material for you. Are you up to hearing?"

"Always."

"Well, when I was in college, I had a friend that the rest of us used to love to tease. You just had to know him. Jonathan was quite the character. It all worked out, though, because he loved the attention. Every spring, without fail, we would get into these—I'm not sure what to call them—prank wars, I suppose. One night, a friend of mine and I went to Jonathan's dorm room and knocked on his door. When he came out, she dumped flour on his head and I doused him with water. We floured him!"

Ethan's jaw dropped. "You floured him? You are terrible!"

"Oh, we paid for it, believe me!" Theresa replied laughing. "So when I saw this flour…"

Ethan's eyes widened. "Oh no you don't!" he said stepping back from her.

Theresa looked at him with wide-eyed innocence. "What on earth are you talking about? Do you honestly think I would flour you, Ethan?"

"In a word, yes."

"You're right!" she said laughing and coming toward him with the flour.

He held his hands up. "Think this through, Theresa. If you flour me, then we don't have flour for the cookies. Just give me the flour."

"Give it to you, eh?"

She started to lift the package, but he reached out and grabbed it from her. He took the package and put it on the top shelf where she couldn't reach.

"Hey!" she protested. "No fair!"

"I can see the way it's going to be. I'm always going to have to keep my eye on you."

"Well, I was kind of hoping that you would have more than your eye on me," she teased as she pulled his arms around her.

He leaned down and rested his forehead against hers. "Do you have any idea of how crazy you make me when you say things like that?" he whispered hoarsely.

Theresa smiled coquettishly. "Well, I'm not seventeen anymore. I do have _some_ idea."

She gently rocked her hips against him, and he groaned as he felt himself respond to her.

She was going to be the death of him yet.

"Then you'll also know that men aren't always gentlemen," Ethan replied as he ran his hands along the hem of her shirt. She gasped when she felt him move under the material of her shirt and against her bare skin.

She raised her arms, and he lifted the shirt over her head. He looked at the beautiful creature that stood before him clad in a lacey white brassiere. She was the most exquisite sight he'd ever seen.

"I guess that's what I'm counting on," she replied as she tugged at his shirt and unbuttoned it. Her hands ran up his chest and over his shoulders, pushing the shirt down his arms. "Now we're even."

He slipped one of the straps of her bra off her shoulder and lightly kissed her shoulder, moving his way toward her neck. "Not quite," he replied before reaching behind her and unclasping the brassiere. He slid it off her body. "Now we're even."

She felt his hands cup her, and she shut her eyes. She'd always wanted to be touched by him; she'd dreamed of it. And now—now it was finally happening.

He pushed her against the kitchen cabinets, wanting so much to press himself into her, to make her his in every way. He groaned harshly at the thought.

She opened her eyes, wrapping her arms around him. Ethan looked into her brown eyes and saw love reflected in them—and trust.

He cursed himself. What was he thinking? He was practically mauling her in the kitchen of all places!

He pulled away from her. "I'm sorry, Resa. I shouldn't have…"

"I don't want you to be sorry, Ethan. I want you to want me."

"I do want you. So much it hurts." And it was true—literally. The throbbing between his legs was evidence of that.

He reached down and retrieved his shirt before draping it around her shoulders. She put her arms through it and buttoned a few of the buttons. Looking at him, she felt utterly frustrated.

"I know that I'm not exactly experienced at this sort of thing, but what am I doing wrong?"

Her voice was small, and Ethan felt like an absolute jerk.

"You're not doing anything wrong. Believe me when I say that you're doing everything right. It's just that you're too precious to me for us to rush into something that you might regret later. I just think we need to talk about this."

Theresa was touched by his words. She reached out and stroked his face. "You're too good to be true."

"I'm just a man, Resa. Just a man."

"The man that I love," she purred.

He took her hands and led her to the living room. Together, they sat on the sofa.

"I know we've gotten ourselves into trouble in the past with pedestals, but my eyes are wide open, Ethan, just as yours are wide open. I know you aren't perfect. You know that I'm not perfect. Yet none of that diminishes what I feel for you in the least."

"Theresa, it's one thing to feel something, but another thing entirely to act on those feelings."

"Ethan, we act on those feelings everyday! A simple smile, a simple touch can say so much."

"What you're talking about is a little different, Resa. I just—I just remember how you told me you wanted to wait until you were married. That when you made love for the first time, you wanted it to be with your husband."

"When I was seventeen years old, that was what I wanted. But I'm not that little girl anymore. There is still a part of me that wants that, I suppose. There is also this other part of me, Ethan—this other part that is having such a hard time waiting. I've given you my heart. It just seems right to give you my body, too."

Ethan swallowed hard. "I don't deserve you."

She lifted her fingers to his lips. "No regrets about the past. We're together now. That's all that matters."

"You make me believe that anything is possible," he whispered hoarsely.

"I honestly believe that when I'm with you, anything _is_ possible," she replied.

He touched her face. "I just want your first time to be special, Resa." He looked around him at his bare apartment. "This wasn't exactly what I'd envisioned in all my fantasies."

"So you've fantasized about me, have you?" she teased.

He kissed the soft skin of her inner wrist, feeling her light pulse against his lips. "You could say that."

"Ethan, don't you know that I don't need a mansion or a castle? All I need is you! Being with you is what will make this special. Nothing else!"

* * *

warning

* * *

Ethan stood and held his hands out to Theresa. She took them, and he pulled her up into his arms. A fierce wave of possession overtook him. He would be her first-her only. It was an overwhelming thought. To know that she had saved herself for him….

Theresa smiled at him as she moved her hips against him, waiting for a reaction from him. She certainly got one as she watched his eyes darken with desire and heard his soft moan.

He put his hands on her hips and brought her into contact once again with his aroused body.

Theresa looked up at him, licking her lips involuntarily.

He moved to place wet kisses along the column of her throat. She could barely catch her breath.

He then took complete possession of her mouth. His mouth coaxed hers before his tongue swept inside. She groaned low in her throat and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her nails then dug into his back. He groaned, and she thought it was the most errotic sound she'd ever heard.

Reaching between them, Ethan unfastened the buttons on the shirt she wore before tossing it aside.

He stepped back and looked at her. She was amazing. So beautiful, so pure.

Theresa put her arms around his waist and led him toward the bedroom. Once there, she turned to him as she felt his arms take hold of her. He reached behind her and unfastened the button of her skirt before unzipping it. It fell to the floor.

Theresa licked her lips as she watched him peruse her body. An unfamiliar dull ache filled her. She knew that Ethan could make it go away. Only Ethan. Only he could give her what she so desperately needed.

She smiled as she reached for the button on his pants. "All things fair," she said with a wink. She quickly finished the job she started with Ethan's pants and smiled as they hit the floor. Clad only in boxers, Theresa smiled as she could see evidence of a rather sizeable bulge within them.

"Theresa…." He hissed as he felt her cup him.

Deftly, she pushed his boxers down, watching with wide-eyed wonder as he kicked them aside. She'd never seen a naked man before. Her gaze made its way from his handsome face, down his chest, and then lower until she could see his evident desire for her.

What would it be like to have him inside of her?

She took his hands and pulled him to the bed, but he hesitated.

"What is it?"

"I need to get protection," he said.

"I'm on the Pill," she said as pressed her body against his.

He buried his hands in her hair and sighed deeply.

She lay back on his bed, her golden skin a startling contrast to the navy blue comforter. He came down on top of her, gathering her in his arms.

Theresa loved everything about him; his scent, his taste, the feel of his skin under his fingertips, the strength of his body on top of hers. He could easily crush her, but he was so incredibly gentle when he touched her, when he held her. Though surrounded by his power, she was also comforted by it.

He wooed her with his tongue, his mouth, and his hands. She felt as though she was the most precious thing in the world to him. He made her feel wanton, wild, and powerful. He reacted to her every touch. She could make him groan simply by raking her fingernails across his shoulders.

She moved against him, and he held her more tightly to him, deepening the kiss.

He was determined to go slowly. He wanted to savor their first time, but he also didn't want to hurt her.

She had the softest, smoothest skin he'd ever felt. He wanted to taste every inch of her. And the scent of her skin intoxicated him. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled her sweet fragrance.

His chest covered her breasts. She gasped at the raw pleasure of feeling his skin against hers. The heat of his skin made her nipples hard, and she was overwhelmed at the erotic feelings taking hold in her body. She moved restlessly against him, wanting something more from him to alleviate the heaviness she felt in her breasts.

Ethan seemed to know exactly what she needed. His hands moved down from her shoulders to stroke her breasts. He took each of them into the palm of his hands, then slowly rubbed the pad of his thumbs across her sensitive nipples.

She let out a little cry of pleasure and dug her fingernails into shoulder blades. He grunted at the pleasure-pain she gave him, then moved down her body so that he could caress her with his mouth.

He ran his lips lightly down the valley between her breasts.

She sighed. Her skin was overly sensitive, and being so close to him felt like heaven. It was incredible. Absolutely incredible. She felt as though she was coming off the bed. She arched up, begging for more.

She didn't think it was possible to feel more pleasure until Ethan covered one of her nipples with his mouth and began to suckle. She couldn't remember to breathe. The pleasure was so intense, it consumed her. Just when she was certain she would die from the ecstasy of it, he rolled away from her.

She groaned in protest, but he met her with a hard kiss on the lips before fixing his attention on the lacey white panties she wore. His hands spanned her waist, then his fingers tucked themselves at the waistband before he gently pulled them down her slender legs.

Theresa was completely naked now. Maybe she should have felt self-conscious, but she didn't. All she knew was that she was with the man she loved. No other care in the world existed at that moment.

Ethan drank in the sight of her, the throbbing he was feeling becoming more intense. "You are so beautiful," he whispered hoarsely. "And I love you so much."

"Show me how much, Ethan. Show me," she urged.

He gathered her in his arms and held her tightly. His hardness was pressed intimately against her pelvis. Pleasure warred with fear. He felt so incredibly huge against her. Her mouth went dry. She was waiting for the inevitable pain that would come and squeezed her eyes shut. Yet a moment later, there was none. Ethan was still against her.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him only to be met with a look of such tenderness that she'd never seen before.

"Baby, I don't want to hurt you," he whispered wistfully.

Her heart melted. She reached up and stroked the side of her face. He leaned into her hand and then kissed her palm. A shudder of desire caught her by surprise.

"Ethan…" she whispered breathlessly.

He slanted his mouth over hers and her lips parted. His tongue swept inside, plundering, giving, tasting, teasing her. Her hands went to the back of her neck and her fingers splayed upwardly, burying themselves in his hair.

She never wanted him to leave her.

Her tongue rubbed against his with a boldness and urgency that surprised them both. Their kisses were quickly taking on an urgency that consumed them both.

His hands moved down between their bodies. He stroked her breasts and then moved lower. His fingers circles around her navel, and she instinctively moved against him.

He shifted his position, moving to her side, all the while, his mouth never leaving hers. His hand moved lower still until he found what he most wanted to touch. His fingers surged through the soft, curly hair between the junction of her thighs.

Moving between her folds, he groaned with satisfaction at finding her wetness there. God, she was so wet for him! It drove him wild.

Theresa whimpered when she felt the invasion of his fingers into her body. The rhythmic motion of his fingers against her made her wonder how much more she would be able to take of his sweet torture. She moved against his hand, arching, demanding more. Her nails ran down his chest, and she softly moaned his name.

Her uninhibited response to him made Ethan lose his own control. His actions became rougher. He pulled her to his mouth, taking possession of it, his tongue burying itself in her mouth just as his finger buried itself in her tight sheathe.

She cried out against him, and he knew he had hurt her. He eased his finger out and tried to soothe her with a slow, achingly erotic kiss. And then, before she realized his intent, his mouth replaced his fingers and he was kissing her there, stroking her with his tongue and lips. The taste of her was intoxicating. She writhed against him, and he used his tongue to stroke the passion in her. Only when she was trembling and burning and pleading for him to come to her did he stop his assault on her senses.

"Baby, I need to be inside of you," he whispered hoarsely. "I need you so much."

She moved away from him. "I need you, too, Ethan. So much."

He rolled her under him, her legs spread. He lifted her hips up high on the front of his thighs, and when he was about to enter her, he demanded that she look at him. "Resa, are you sure?" It was going to kill him if she told him to stop, but he didn't want her to regret it.

She nodded. "Ethan, I think I'm going to die if I don't feel you inside of me."

"Baby, it's going to hurt, and I'm so sorry. But after that, it's going to feel like heaven."

She moved restlessly against him. "Please, Ethan. I love you so much. Touch me. Make love to me."

He kissed her then, long and hard. His tongue moved inside her mouth to mate with hers, and then he tried to ease into her tight sheath slowly. It was agony for him. All he wanted was to be planted deep inside of her.

She tensed at the unfamiliar sensation as he invaded her body, inadvertently giving him pleasure. He couldn't take it anymore. He pushed into her with one quick thrust, breaking her virginal barrier.

Finally planted solidly inside her, he captured her cries with a kiss.

Within the span of a few seconds, the pain began to lessen. A dull ache remained, but when Ethan leaned down and kissed her tears away, it was forgotten.

Though it didn't seem possible, he sank deeper into her. He was surrounded by her, caressed by her tightness, consumed with so much intense pleasure, he thought for certain he would die from it.

He stilled, allowing her time to get used to him. "I love you, Theresa. So much."

The determination to hold back only lasted a few seconds. She restlessly moved against him and began to stroke his shoulders. He rocked against her. Sensation after sensation flooded him. He slowly withdrew then thrust into her again.

"Oh yes." she moaned. He felt so good to her. So good.

The rhythmic motions became more frenzied. Each thrust became more forceful, much quicker. Each time he sank into her was better than the time before. He was heedless to everything else but giving her pleasure and finding his own.

Her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck. He pulled her legs up to hold him around his hips. And then she began to move with him. She arched up when he pulled back, a ritual that was becoming more exhilarating with each touch, each stroke. They moved in perfect harmony.

She marveled at how he felt. With each thrust, he seemed to become harder and fuller. He filled her with a sense of wonder.

She felt another feeling rising within her, one that scared her. "Ethan…." she whimpered.

He soothed her. "It's okay, Resa. Just let go."

And then she was flying. Tremors racked her body, and she screamed out his name.

Feeling her convulse around him, Ethan thrust deeply in her one more time before letting himself go. Spilling his seed deep within her, he moaned her name.

His ecstasy was so earth-shattering and gratifying, he felt tears come to his eyes. His heart was slamming against his chest. He never knew that making love could be like this.

She'd given him perfection.

He rolled off her. Resting his head at the crook of her neck, he felt her small hands bury themselves in his hair.

Her heart pounded, and her breathing was labored. She'd never known that such passion was possible. She'd been consumed by him, overwhelmed by him.

He'd given her perfection.

She clung to Ethan, feeling safe and protected in his strong arms, until her heart ceased beating so erratically and she could draw a complete breath.

"Ethan, I never knew….." she couldn't find the words.

He reached up and gently stroked her cheek. "Neither did I, Resa. That was….that was…."

"Wow!" she supplied.

"Yeah. Wow is right. Baby, I've never felt like this before. You took me to a place I've never been."

"Never?" she asked in amazement.

"Never," he asserted. "And you gave me the most amazing gift."

"There could never be anyone else for me but you, Ethan. I always wanted you to be my first—and only."

"But I know you also wanted to wait until you were married. Any regrets?"

"Just one," she replied lazily. "That we didn't do this sooner. We have so much time to make up for, and you have a lot to teach me."

He laughed heartily. "I think you're a natural. Are you still hurting?"

"I'm fine," she assured him.

"I'm glad. I wouldn't want to hurt you for anything in the world."

She yawned lazily and ran her fingers through his hair. "I know, Sweetie. I know."

He pulled her more closely to him, wrapping his arms around her slender body. She was entirely spent, and all she wanted to do was lie there with him, fall asleep in his arms, and greet the world together.

Being with him was perfection. _Absolute perfection_, she thought before drifting off.

* * *

end of warning

* * *

Sunlight streamed in through the window. Theresa opened her eyes to find Ethan's gaze upon her. The soft blue of his eyes were a welcome sight to her.

"Good morning," he said greeting her with a kiss.

"Mmmm. Good morning, handsome. What time is it?" she murmured.

He looked past her shoulder at the alarm clock on the nightstand. "A little past ten," he replied.

She smiled. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. We were up pretty late last night, weren't we?"

"That we were. I have to admit that I was a little afraid that I would wake up to find last night was just an incredibly erotic dream. Actually, at first, I thought it was."

She ran her hands down his muscular arm. "If you're dreaming, then so am I, and it's not a dream I want to wake up from."

"No one's going to spoil this for us, Resa. No one."

A small crease formed on her brow. "They're going to try."

"Let them! It's not going to work. Through all the plans that have been laid, all the plots that have been hatched, we've still managed to find our way back to one another."

"It's pretty amazing, isn't it?"

"Not so amazing when you consider that we have fate on our side, Theresa."

She giggled. "I can't believe you just said that!"

"Why not?" he asked with a grin. "It's the truth."

"Ethan, I don't know what's going to happen next. There are a lot of things going on—with your family and mine. All I do know is that I want us to face it together. I can do anything with you by my side. "

"Always, Resa. Always," he replied kissing her tenderly.

Her heart fluttered at his nearness, and happiness flooded her. Life was definitely good.

"Sweetie?"

"Yes?"

"I just have one question. Are we going to finish making the cookies?"

"Absolutely."

He pulled her close to him, their bodies melting into one another. Feeling his sweet caresses, she clung to him. "This is not what I meant," she giggled. "But I'll take it."

* * *

The End


End file.
